


glimmering goddesses in the night

by arysthaeniru



Series: women of power [1]
Category: Daenamhyup | DNH, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AlwaysAGirl!Bangtan, Angst, Anxiety, F/F, Genderbending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insults, Internal Monologue, Music Jargon, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, Underground Rapper Namjoon, Underground Rapper Yoongi, gendered slurs, hyungline centric, mostly hyungline, namjoon is a feminist, so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 59,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysthaeniru/pseuds/arysthaeniru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't easy being a female rapper in the hip-hop world, especially not being a taller-than-average lesbian in South Korea's underground scene while still juggling schoolwork, overbearing parents and disgusting friends, but Nayeon's got it sorted. Mostly. Until enigmatic Gloss comes in and ruins all of her best-laid plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fem!sugamon rappers came to me while I was in the shower because I am SO gay and wanted to talk about misogyny. 
> 
> Kim Nayeon- Namjoon  
> Kim Jinsol - Seokjin  
> Min Yoongi -> the same because Yoongi is a unisex name :D  
> Jung Huiseon - Hoseok  
> Park Jimin -> also unisex  
> Kim Taehui - Taehyung  
> Jeon Jeongmin - Jungkook
> 
>  **Suggesting Listening:**  
>  KittiB - RRF (Ronda Rousey Flow)  
> Ahn Soo Min - Do Or Die  
> Yezi (ft. KittiB, Gilme, Ahn Soo Min) - Sse Sse Sse  
> BTS - Cypher 2

The club's lights throbbed, uncomfortably bright as they stepped inside the shitty back-entrance, and Nayeon grimaced, as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Fuck. Why the hell are we here on a weekend, Donghyuk?" she demanded, reaching forward to grip to the back of her best friend's shirt, so she wouldn't lose him in the crowd that were pushing around the dance floor.

Donghyuk, who was wearing a huge Stussy hat and looked entirely at ease, as he winked at a few ladies who gave him an drunkenly appraising look, shrugged. "Your idea. You texted me saying that Hunchul-hyung was going to try and get the prize money this week. I live to see hyung getting wrecked." 

Nayeon shrugged, as she tossed a glance towards the currently empty stage. 8pm, just the right time for a huge crowd of people inside the Dragon's Kiss, the hottest club for the underground rap scene and the best DJ mixed music in Itaewon, if she said so herself. Still, it wasn't late enough for the performance to start, the hype and the excitement had to be built, which meant that Taegyun was busy mixing up his best tracks in front of the huge crowd, throwing in party favourites like Big Bang, inbetween more obscure, but equally talented underground songs. 

"It's too early for this." Nayeon said, instead, wincing as a green strobe light suddenly blinded her. Why had she left her sunglasses at home? Right, her mother had said it made her look like an idiot, and she was probably right for the streets of Seoul, but inside the club, it made total sense. Still, if her straight-laced traditional mother knew even half of the shit that Nayeon did about the street scene, Nayeon would never be allowed to leave the house. As it was, she was only allowed to leave to go clubbing when Donghyuk was with her (despite Nayeon's rant about how sexist it was that she required a chaperone) and Nayeon didn't want to push her luck. 

"You mean you're not drunk enough for this." Donghyuk said, grin stretched over his asshole face. "Is the good girl ready to get drunk off her ass?"

Nayeon's response was a jabbing elbow to Donghyuk's side, and a goofy smile, which made him crack up. "I don't have to be shitfaced to laugh at Hunchul-oppa's disasters." she retorted, with an easy low grin. "He makes it easy enough."

"Too true." Donghyuk said, winking around Nayeon's side at a pretty girl, who was wearing one of the shortest dresses Nayeon had ever seen at this particular club. He looked a little too interested in the way her skirt rode up, as she made her way towards Donghyuk, so Nayeon smirked, softly and leant forward, with a; "He's a complete pervert, reads tentacle porn and eats cheetos at 5am in the morning. No way he's good enough for you." 

Donghyuk spluttered, in frustration as the girl gave them both a judging look and disappeared back into the crowd. "God, Nayeon, just because you're not getting some, doesn't mean you have to stop me!" he complained. "Few enough people ever come and approach us anyway, because they always think we're dating when the others aren't here....when are they getting here, anyway?"

Hiding the snicker behind her hand (Donghyuk was always so easily distracted, it was fucking brilliant), she shrugged. "God knows. I put it in the group chat, but nobody replied except Hyosang-oppa, because oppa doesn't have a life."

"Oi." Hyosang said, drawing up behind Donghyuk, with a disgruntled look on his face. And with good reason. He was wearing the tightest leather pants that Nayeon had ever seen, with glitter around the crotch area, and she couldn't help but howl in laughter as he drew closer. Looking confused, Donghyuk turned around, before devolving into laughter himself, burying his guffaws into Nayeon's shoulder. 

"The fuck are you wearing, hyung?" howled Donghyuk, before laughing again, "Worse than a fucking idol!"

"Did Hunus-CEO-nim finally make good on his threat to make you a trainee?" demanded Nayeon, snickering into her palm. Hyosang crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, looking completely pissed off.

"Jin picked it, so you can all shut up, or she can run after you with her rolling pin and you can be subjected to her wrath." he grumbled, as he awkwardly shifted in place, before ruffling his styled hair and rolling his shoulders back. "God I need a drink."

He stormed away, looking furious and in the process, she and Donghyuk caught the sight of his leather trousers studded with sparkly sequins along the seams of his butt and Donghyuk started howling with laughter again, going red-faced and weak-kneed with amusement. Nayeon wasn't too far off, but she managed to steer Donghyuk to follow after him anyway, catching the sleeve of Hyosang's leather jacket, quickly, before he ditched them. 

He turned back, pulling an awkward face, and it was the most uncomfortable that Nayeon had ever seen the usually over-confident Hyosang. She couldn't help but feel a little pity for him, so she untangled herself from Donghyuk to pat his shoulder.

"Tough luck, oppa. Where is Jinsol-unnie, anyway, she not coming too?" asked Nayeon, slinging an arm around his shoulders, cheerily.

"She's not here today, some audition at her uni. Wanted to go with, but she said I had to come and support Hunchul. But at least I have the company of the one dongsaeng who loves me~" Hyosang said, cheerily, slapping Nayeon's ass firmly, making the ruffles of her skirt fan out.

Without a pause, Nayeon kicked her heavy, studded boots straight into Hyosang's crotch and relished in the pained choking sound of his sudden agony. Donghyuk sunk to the floor, wheezing with laughter as he clutched his stomach, and Ikje, from behind the counter just snorted, low and amused. 

"Would you like some Red Hot BlowJob with that, Hyosang, or are you good?" called Ikje, sly smile splitting over his tanned face, as he reached forward to hi-five Nayeon. 

"Not if it's from you, asshole." squeaked out Hyosang, as he waddled over the counter and sat down, pointedly ignoring Nayeon and Donghyuk. "I need some soju, god, that hurt." 

"I don't know why Jinsol-unnie puts up with you, honestly." Nayeon said, seriously as he took a seat next to Hyosang, dragging Donghyuk up as well, letting him collapse over the counter like a madman instead, "She deserves so much better than your dumb ass." 

Hyosang ignored her, in favour of whining to Ikje about something or the other and Nayeon stared out over the crowd, pulsing along with the heavy beat. The problem, she mused, with being a girl in the underground scene was how surrounded by casual misogyny you were. Not that it wasn't there in other genres of music, of course, (traditional songs were unbearable on all levels because of that) but it was was very blatant in hip-hop and the way people talked about women like they were objects and rapped with pride about cheating and abuse. She loved the beats and the incredible sense of accomplishment that came from rapping and speaking about issues in an accessible way, but the underlying problems made her feel ill, at times. Even her own friends slipped into the attitude that most other rappers took. No matter how often Nayeon kicked and lectured it out of them, they would always say something that made her feel cold on the inside and incredibly queasy. 

They were still her friends, because unlike the rest of the underground world, they would always apologize or make it up to her later, and never treated her much like anything except another same-age friend, but it didn't mean that they stopped voicing out sketch remarks towards other women, or doing certain things that pierced Nayeon's heart and made her feel _less_. 

And there was no way of hiding from it either. With a height of 180cm, added to by her ever-present doc-marten boots, and her short skirts and scuffed leather jackets, she stood out amongst the strong rappers of their age, in their hoodies and jeans and snapbacks. Add the fact that she was the current reigning champion of the monthly freestyle contests at the _Dragon's Kiss_.....? Impossible to avoid any negative attention for who she was, while still being able to rap. 

And if she wanted friends who understood the struggles of being a girl but still loved rap, there were very few who were close to her age. She knew of the likes of KittiB and Cheetah, who were rocking the underground scene but were _much_ older than her, and Nayeon was _sort of_ acquaintances with Ahn Soo Min, who was young compared to the other big female names, but still four years older than Nayeon, and almost inaccessible because of her job. 

There was nobody her age to relate to, except Donghyuk, who'd always been by her side and was the most understanding of everything Nayeon was, even if he was neither lesbian nor a woman. He shoved a drink towards her, with a lemon sticking out of it. Nayeon lifted a questioning eyebrow, as she took a sip, and nodded approvingly, at the bitter-sweet taste. 

"You're overthinking again." Donghyuk said, seriously, laughter fit clearly over. "You questioning life decisions again, or something?"

"Something like that." Nayeon said, with a sigh, and Hyosang turned around, with an annoyed pout on his face, 

"Hey, next time I piss you off, can you like kick my ribs and not my manhood? I rather like my balls and Jinsol does as well." he complained, ignoring Donghyuk's look of disgust at hearing about their sex life. "But yeah. Sorry." 

"Your stroke game better be bomb, it must be the redeeming factor to all of this." Nayeon snarked, dryly, gesturing towards his body, making Ikje snort on his way to delivering a huge order to a bunch of drunk teens. Hyosang grinned back and she smiled at him, faintly. He was her friend, despite everything, and always would be, always had her back when her parents screamed or when a track wasn't going the way she wanted. 

But sometimes, it was hard. 

"Urgh, this sucks." Donghyuk grumbled as Hunchul faced off some newbie rapper from Cheongsando, easily crushing them with some witticism, winking out towards the crowd as the other rapper slunk away, miserably, clearly recognizing their loss, "I wanted to see him crushed in the first round."

"Nah," Hyosang said, with an easy laugh, "It's funnier if he gets all the way to the final round and fails to someone who's not Nayeon." 

Nayeon grinned, over the top of her drink, letting the light buzz settle over her brain. "No way, I'm betting on second to last round, so he can watch the final and sob like a maniac." she said, jabbing Donghyuk in the side as he tried to stare at a gaggle of girls headed their way, with moon-eyes. "Also, Hyosang-oppa, why the hell aren't you up there? Did Hunchul-oppa ask you to not compete as well?" 

Hyosang shrugged, lips pulling around the soju bottle, with a slight grimace. "No, I just didn't have any good verses. Been running low on inspiration lyrically, lately, keep turning towards music production anyway, since the kids at Hunus write their lyrics and I only have to make instrumental tracks. Oh, I made a cool track, actually, with you and Hyuk in mind, you should come over next Friday and see if you want it." 

"Is it a love ballad? Because if it is, I have to respectfully decline and direct your whipped ass towards Jinsol-noona." Donghyuk said, dryly, "But next Friday is our practise test for the National Exams, make it Thursday instead?" 

"Piss off Hyuk, why the fuck would I compose a love ballad for you two? You two are like the least romantic people in the world." Hyosang said, with no venom in his tone and Nayeon hummed in agreement, grinning easily, with the sly look that brought out her dimples. 

"The most action's Donghyuk's ever gotten is with his grandmother. She kissed him on the lips once, by accident, it was _hilarious_." she said, easily, and Ikje almost dropped his bottle at that remark, and Donghyuk's furious instant reaction of reaching forward to try and punch her arm.

"Hey, that's only because you cockblock me _every single time_ I try to get another girl! God, if I didn't know that you're as gay as a mayfly, I'd think you liked me, with the speed you ruin all of my romantic prospects!" Donghyuk exclaimed, thumping her arm, persistently, as she avoided his headlock, easily, using her height to propel herself away. 

"It's because you're not good enough for any of them. It's bad enough that Hyosang-oppa managed to trap somebody as pretty as Jinsol-unnie into a relationship, I think part of my soul would die if you managed to ruin some pretty girl's life." Nayeon jibed, pushing back her hair from her face. "Besides, your mom paid me thirty-thousand won to make sure that you never get a date until she approves."

It took a moment for the words to properly register in Donghyuk's mind and Nayeon snickered easily as his face slowly turned redder from anger, his ears going tomato-plum red. Hyosang snorted, lowly, moving away a barstool, and finally Donghyuk lunged forward and attempted to wrestle her down. "YOU TRAITOR!" He howled " _THIRTY THOUSAND FUCKING WON AND YOU RUIN MY SOCIAL LIFE???_ " 

Nayeon had to push her drink back onto the counter, so she wouldn't fall off the chair from how hard she was giggling and trying to avoid his persistent attempts to trap her down. People around them were staring and laughing, the regulars who didn't seem to realize that they were Rap Goddess and Supreme Boi, and she relished in the lack of recognition for one night. 

"Ssh, ssh, you idiots, watch." Hyosang said, eyes growing sharp and they both paused, mid-grope, and turned towards the stage, where Hunchul was facing off someone extremely short. "It's Gloss, that kid from Daegu that Ikje said had potential." Nayeon straightened up and stared as Hunchul rapped something slow and slightly lazy, as if he was getting tired of beating all of the challengers who were coming his way. 

"God, is he high or something?" she asked, twisting her nose at his pronunciation. At least half of Hunchul's songs were made on weed--and admittedly, it was probably what made them so easy on the ears and fun to listen to on a daily basis--but it didn't mean that she approved his butchering the English language, not after she'd spent all the time into teaching herself how to speak fluently. 

"Probably." Donghyuk answered, slinging his arms over her shoulders, pulling her down a little. "To give him that edge to make it easier on stage, or shit. Like you and me rap better while being buzzed." 

"Yeah, well I think he's got more than just a little edge." said Nayeon, dryly as he slurred the final vowels, in a way that made him sound incompetent, while somehow still keeping his flow perfect. The sort of thing that managed to work for Hunchul, in the eyes of the Korean public. 

Gloss coughed, in response, adjusted the snapback over his head and launched into his verse.

Nayeon gaped suddenly, as the voice registered, properly. Beyond the baggy hoodie, extraordinarily ripped skinny jeans and backwards snapback hiding away all hair, she hadn't noticed the soft features of Gloss's face. A gently sloped nose, plush lips, small, dark eyes, and thin shoulders. Nayeon had assumed it was just another flower boy rapper-wannabe, like the types they'd been seeing for some time, with the rise of k-hip-hop in the mainstream world. But no. This wasn't a flowerboy _at all_. Gloss, with a deep, husky voice was unmistakably female. And she was absolutely _slaying_ the beat, doubling the speed of Hunchul's verse and dropping insults about the quality of his rap and his appearance.

She licked her lips, and her entire body flowed with her rap, big motions with her body to offset her fast rap and the emphasis on certain words. She looked like she belonged on the stage, bright lights illuminating her smooth face, and Nayeon could barely even see Hunchul, on the side of the stage, shocked expression peeking around his sunglasses, with her stage presence. He'd been outclassed, by yet another female rapper, wasn't the irony in that amazing? 

Nayeon giggled, shakily as Gloss finished with a loud shout, that the crowd mirrored, and noticed suddenly that she'd unconsciously moved forward through half of the crowd, towards the stage, in her haze of _good rapping by another girl_. She turned back towards Donghyuk and Hyosang, who waved at her, supportively, and Nayeon nodded, swallowing heavily, before pushing through the crowd, her height making sure that people parted for her, even as they screamed for Gloss to keep rapping. 

Taegyun noticed her approach, and grinned, lowly, as Hunchul dropped off the stage, shaking his head. "Nayeon, you avenging me?" Hunchul asked, as Taegyun announced a surprise challenger coming up, in response to such a talented rap. 

"Let's go with that." Nayeon said, absently, grabbing Hunchul's sunglasses and slipping them over her features. The lights of the stage became a lot less obnoxious and she shook her head, to make herself focus on the competition ahead, and not on the overwhelming awe. Gloss had been better than Hunchul, but better than Nayeon? Not likely. 

"Rap Goddess, reigning champion back to avenge her title!" yelled Taegyun as Nayeon tried to pull herself up onto stage, microphone in hand. She tripped over her boots the first time, but managed to make it up the second time, making the first row laugh and Gloss snicker, into her elbow. 

"You first, Gloss." said Nayeon, lowly, brushing her hair away from her face, with a cheerful smile, before the beat started up, a low, but pulsing beat that circled in and around the stage, with slow pace. Gloss bounced up and down with the beat, her converses hitting the stage with force as she circled around to get a feel of the song, before launching into it, voice immediately pushing herself up, and boasting about her skill being worldwide, from Daegu to San Paolo. Nayeon couldn't help but bob her head along to Gloss's skill. She clearly knew how to land on the beat and use wordplay. It was a level of advanced that you didn't typically see from country-rappers. 

How had she not been claimed by one of the crews yet? She was _good_ with a voice and image that made every part of her pop on stage. And her _voice_ , her voice was fucking spectacular, moving from low and rough to high and staccato in just a matter of seconds. She was _good_. 

Just not good enough. Nayeon launched straight in on her verse, letting her words cut, and a few lines from Kim Eri that had always struck her as true, how she could rise to the top without crushing others, because she was a Goddess, not just a queen. The beat was easy to float over, and she could hear the crowd going completely wild, but Gloss only looked a little annoyed, not affected at all. 

Nayeon finished with one of her best wordplays, a homage to her most popular rap and the crowd went absolute mad and Nayeon turned around, to shoot one last look at Gloss. But Gloss didn't seem content to leave it there, instantly picking up her mic again and continuing on, shocking most of the crowd into quiet.

Nayeon stared because this time, she went in harder, Faster and _off-beat_ , flowing in and out of the melodies, with a sort of ease that even Ikje, master of off-beat, strange-rhythmed raps, couldn't do so masterfully. Her eyebrows had pulled down into a fierce frown, but there were beads of sweat on her cheeks and forehead from the bright lights and she looked so intense and radiant that Nayeon couldn't take her eyes from her. She shone on that stage, clearly in her element as she gestured forward and pushed Nayeon backwards a little, with one finger. 

Gloss stumbled a little in a slightly weird sounding transition to being back on beat, the only flaw in something so masterful, and for a moment, Nayeon considered letting her win. Dropping the microphone and admitting defeat. But Gloss was performing at her best, she could see that in the way that she grinned devilishly at Nayeon on the finishing curse, and shrugged her shoulders languidly. And Nayeon's weakness always had been people who were performing at their best. If her opponent was putting in their all, Nayeon couldn't help but reciprocate. To do anything would be a disrespect to their effort.

So Nayeon brought the mic up, and stared straight at Gloss, and how Gloss's lips were slightly chapped but glistening with saliva and how the lines of her body showed how completely at ease she was here, up on stage, in a way that most underground rappers weren't and Nayeon let the words spill from her mouth, the easy derision and self-assurance in her own confidence, the put-downs of the other bastards in the business, how everybody in the world could think they were amazing, but they couldn't touch the shining stars in the sky, how there was an ephemeral nature to fame, anyway, even if she was only here for her fifteen seconds of spotlight, she was going to illuminate the world in that time, and what would you do?

And to her surprise, Gloss just cut right in, her voice hoarse and slightly breathless, in an easy rebuttal, that even if Nayeon thought she was ephemeral, Gloss was forever, and that she would etch her name into the memory of every bitch out there, until nobody would think of anyone but her. Until her tunes were engraved in the minds of everyone. And well, Nayeon would have stopped to counter immediately, but well, Nayeon didn't think she would ever be able to get Gloss' voice or Gloss's face out of her mind, even after just this one meeting, so the rapper wasn't exactly lying. 

So Nayeon took another route, cutting into Gloss's last line, stepping into Gloss's personal space as she went a little lower and more melodious, into a slightly jarring rap about the nature of memory and fame, and how she was going to be the best fucking person in the world, but wasn't overly greedy. And the shine to Gloss's eyes, the passion and the rage at everything, made their battle seem like a duet, if only for one tiny shining moment, as their eyes met and they understood the love for the _fight_ , between them. 

But Gloss only let that moment last for a little while, before she turned towards the crowd and roared, loudly, and launched into a spitfire verse, clearly something well-rehearsed in the past, cleverly altered for Nayeon, and their topic about fame and fortune and how greed only seems like greed to those who have everything, and if Nayeon hadn't already been in love with Gloss's rap, she'd have toppled off the stage with how mature those lyrics were, how deep and thoughtful, and oh, how Nayeon wanted to push Gloss down right now and interrogate her thoroughly about her opinions of the state of the world. 

But, an even more overwhelming desire was this: Nayeon wanted to win. The urge to win against Gloss was rising in her veins, the urge to prove to Gloss that she was so much better, that she was right, rose up in her chest until she could swallow it no longer, and she snatched the beat right from Gloss's adept tongue, as soon as Gloss finished her verse, quickly freestyling using a flow and rhythm she'd been thinking about for a new song. The crowd were getting restless: rap battles weren't supposed to be this long after all, so she found herself moving downstage practically screaming the lyrics into the mic, which drew cheers and whoops from the crowd as she rose in intensity and speed. Nayeon kept going until her tongue was starting to numb, and the faint spots of black started to dot the sides of her vision from lack of air, and finally she ended with a rasped bang, finger gun to the side of Gloss's head. 

The crowd exploded and she could see Donghyuk and Hyosang in the back stand up, looking dazed as they screamed her name. Gloss just stared at Nayeon, her chest rising and falling, heavily, before she stormed off behind the stage, not even waiting for Taegyun's announcement of the winner. Nayeon immediately ran after her, almost tripping over her boots in her haste, at the wings of the stage. 

"Wait, wait, Gloss!" called Nayeon, after her, "Gloss-sunbaenim!"

Gloss turned around, on her heel, face pulled into an absolutely ferocious scowl. "What?" she snapped, and her speaking voice was quieter and more melodious than her rapping voice, and the sudden contrast drew Nayeon up short; the words she'd been planning to speak, suddenly sliding away from Nayeon's throat like gossamer. 

"I-uhh, you did really well, sunbae-nim. Like really well." Nayeon said, knowing the moment that the words left her throat, that they were lame and stupid, and cursed herself for voicing it aloud. 

Gloss gave her an unimpressed glare, black eyes boring holes into Nayeon's soul. "Yeah. Not good enough though, huh? Is that it?" 

Nayeon stammered internally, and just fell into autopilot, her brain short-circuiting at the fact that Gloss's voice was so gorgeous and that she was glaring at Namjoon with the sort of intensity that Nayeon had only ever dreamed about before. "Kim Nayeon aka Rap Goddess. It was really fun to fight you, unnie. You are unnie, right? 93liner? I'm a 94liner." she said, bowing lowly, to try and hide the blush slowly rising up in her cheeks, but unable to wipe away the embarrassed smile at Gloss's eyes being only on her. 

"Yeah, I'm your unnie." said Gloss, looking a little more amused, a faint smile gracing her chapped, plump lips. "Min Yoongi. I'll see you around, I guess, Nayeon-ah."

Nayeon watched dumbly as she left, staring at the white converse slowly disappearing down the corridor. Her name...on Yoongi's lips.... had just sent shudders down Nayeon's spine. Her cheeks turned even redder, her hands were tingling and there was a low heat slowly starting to form in Nayeon's core, the sort of slow arousal that Nayeon had only felt on very few occasions. It took her a few moments to process, before she realized that Yoongi had left.

"Wait, wait, unnie, can I get your numb--" Nayeon yelled as she sprinted for the backdoor and pulled it open, to see no trace of the other rapper. The night air was cold against Nayeon's skin, and the alleyway was clear of all signs of the beautiful rapper who'd glowed in the tiny heart of the Korean Underground. 

Nayeon ripped off Hunchul's sunglasses and ruffled her black hair, in frustration. "Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kim Eri is one of Korea's best online feminists, please read her smackdowns of idiots [here](http://www.koreabang.com/2012/stories/feminist-feels-pity-for-men-in-continued-online-misogyny-debate.html) and [ here ](http://www.koreabang.com/2012/stories/feminist-rebuts-claims-women-are-over-empowered-in-korea.html)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nayeon has not been this thirsty for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! It's like double the size of the last chapter to make up for that though? Have fun~

The thing about Nayeon was that she knew she wasn't the sort of pretty that people liked. She was just too big. Her hips were too big for the rest of her lanky frame, she was too tall, her nose and her lips were too big for her face and her ambition was too big for most people to be able to understand and live with. Everything undesirable for a woman anywhere, but especially undesirable in Korea. And as such, everyone made her feel less, made her feel smaller, tried to push her and cram her into the small, tiny cage that was considered acceptable for women, the cage she desperately attempted to flee at every point. 

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wish she'd been born a boy, just so everything would be easier. Her attraction for girls would be easier, her height would be easier, her love of hip-hop would be easier, hell, even her _schoolwork_ would have been easier, since nobody seemed to believe that a girl could outperform pretty much everyone around her, and kept asking if she was entirely sure she was a girl.

And usually, Nayeon didn't even care about looking pretty. It was the least of her concerns; even if the sharp comments thrown behind her back made her ache, somewhere low, she had grown adept at ignoring them. She only owned eyeliner because of her younger sister and the one-week-long phase she'd gone through at age thirteen, where makeup had fascinated her (it had stopped after she'd almost had to go to hospital for jabbing herself in the middle of her eyeball with the mascara stick; Donghyuk had laughed for a whole month afterwards at her uncool eyepatch).

Really. Not the slightest bit of interest. 

"Are you wearing makeup?" demanded Park Jimin, the moment that Nayeon swung her bag down at their lunch table, almost knocking over her flask of hot tea in her excitement and horror. 

Donghyuk, who'd been playing Crossy Roads on his phone, as he ignored the study materials in front of him, started upwards and goggled at Nayeon like she was a foreign object. "Do you need to go to the nurse, Nayeon?" he asked, looking supremely worried, "Do you have a stomachache? Your eyes are okay? Oh my god, I can see the eyeliner, what the hell."

Nayeon ignored Donghyuk as she pulled out her lunchbox. "Is it that obvious, Jimin?"

"To anyone who isn't an idiot boy, yeap." Jimin said, popping the p, with an amused smile, ignoring Donghyuk's spluttered annoyed protest. Nayeon just silently agreed-- Donghyuk had walked her to school, was in her first three lessons, and _still_ hadn't noticed until it had been pointed out. Definitely an idiot. "It's a huge difference to your usual look." 

"A good way, or a bad way?" asked Nayeon, casually, snapping her chopsticks open, with a muttered thanks towards the meal. 

Jimin's smile became a little more fixed on her face and Nayeon grimaced as she quickly stuffed some rice into her mouth. If Jimin, one of the only girls who somehow managed to have a compliment for everything, was struck for words, it was probably really horrendous. At least she hadn't managed to injure herself this morning, as she'd fumbled with her little's sister's stuff, while half asleep. "You're so pretty as is, unnie. You don't need makeup." Jimin settled for, and she and Donghyuk exchanged amused looks at the roundabout avoidance. 

"It's alright, Jimin, you can say that it looks bad." Nayeon said, with a light laugh. "I suspected it would. You think you could help me out?" 

Jimin exhaled, with relief. "Oh _please_ let me fix it, unnie." she said, dropping back into her chair, her regulation-length black hair dropping flopping against her chair as she grinned up at both of them

"Come around before cram school today and teach me? I can get pizza or something and help you with English." Nayeon said, as she kicked Donghyuk under the table for trying to steal her chicken. It didn't deter him from managing to liberate about five chunks from her box, with a very smug expression on his face. 

"Oh, that would be great unnie, I have no idea what happened in class for the last three weeks!" Jimin said, looking relieved, as she shifted her salad around with her chopsticks. "What brought this on, anyway? Didn't you write that one essay about the makeup industry sustaining itself on telling women that they are less, and capitalizing on the need to constantly impress others?" Jimin asked, eyes sparkling with confused amusement, and Nayeon tilted her head, in surprise. She knew that Jimin was interested in hearing Nayeon talk about feminism (one of the only people that did) but hadn't been aware that Jimin had read that particular research paper. 

Donghyuk, however, just snickered, as he leant back in his chair. "Wait, you're seriously _that_ into Gloss? You didn't even try make-up for Zinger-noona, and you were like head-over-heels for her."

"Gloss?" demanded Jimin, hands coming down on the table, in surprise and eager anticipation, "Unnie, who's Gloss? Is she cute? Is she at least Rank Five in all of her classes? Does she like the same music as you? Does she dress nicely? Is her tongue game bomb?" asked Jimin, sounding remarkably like the mother in all of the Hindi dramas that his mother loved to stream on her phone, after a call with his grandparents, to reassure herself that _"some people's families are worse"_. 

Nayeon shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat up as she smiled down at her lunch. "No clue yet, Jiminie. But I want to know."

Jimin scrunched up her nose, crossing her arms over her chest firmly, pushing up her boobs in the process. "Well, I'm not teaching you how to put on make-up until after you know her. If she doesn't like you as you are, no kudos." she said, firmly, and Donghyuk almost looked emotional for a moment there, before he turned back to his games, his emotional capacity for the week having already been depleted. 

"But--" Nayeon said, ready to protest but Jimin leant forward and pressed a finger to Nayeon's lips, a slightly scary look in her eyes. 

"No." 

So maybe Jimin had a point, and wearing makeup for Min Yoongi (even her name was gorgeous) was probably not the best idea to make her fall for her, and just to drill that idea into her head, Nayeon reread her essay about makeup and a few more online articles from some of her favourite analysis on exactly why makeup could be empowering to some, but also entirely unnecessary on another level. It didn't ease the hilt of insecurity in the centre of her chest, but made her feel a bit better. 

("You're a real weirdo." Donghyuk said, amused laughter, as he chilled in Nayeon's room, pretending to do his studying, while actually flicking through some fanpictures of IU. Jimin had already left, after smooching Nayeon everywhere and finishing her English homework, with promises to help Nayeon on how to properly do makeup once she finished romancing Min Yoongi, in order to lead to the next step of seduction. "Makeup?"

"Shut up." Nayeon grumbled, not looking up from her maths revision papers, and the complex calculations. Her mind was currently deep in the world of numbers, and even if Donghyuk wasn't studying, she had to do a little bit, in order to remember the more obscure formulas for the entrance exam. 

"Seriously though. You're so lame." Donghyuk teased, easily, smile stretching over his face. "If I told Hyosang that you wore make-up, I think he would die from shock."

Nayeon groaned and thumped her head down against the notebook. "If you tell any of the crew, I will go on a murder spree, and you will be my first victim, and I will eventually end up in jail, Donghyuk, and then you will have nobody to do combination songs with and your funeral will be poorly attended, so please don't.")

So instead of makeup, Nayeon fell back on the one thing she knew she did have in spades: rapping. Despite it being one of the most important schoolwork weeks of her life, Nayeon found herself skipping out on attending cram school sessions to instead sit in the back of the Dragon's Kiss, with Ikje behind the counter, reading her textbooks and finishing practise tests, while occasionally glancing up to see if Gloss was up on the big stage.

It was a weird way to study, perhaps _not_ the most efficient method she'd ever attempted in her life, but it soothed the part of her that was worrying about perhaps missing Yoongi's presence and rapping again. A part of her _yearned_ to see Gloss up on stage again, listen to her soothing, husky voice say absolutely anything and that part of her brain currently overrid the rest of her mind that insisted on studying for the NUAT properly. 

The lights were a little painful against her eyes, she was sure that the cram school teacher was eventually going to figure out that she wasn't ill, and there was this underlying throb of anxiety about the upcoming exams, but she couldn't quite stop herself from coming back to the Dragon's Kiss at night, even when Taegyun asked questions a little too probing about why she was here during a weekday, and when Ikje gave her silent, judging looks. 

("You've not got a crush on me, have you?" asked Ikje, on the third day of her being inside the club, hiding behind the bar counter, eyes trained on her notes, but keeping an ear out for the names being called on the stage. Weekdays were less crowded that weekends, which made it much easier to do this. 

"Ikje-oppa." Nayeon said, looking up from her scribbled, barely-legible notes for her Social Studies class. "I'm a lesbian. You know I'm a lesbian. The rest of DNH knows I'm a lesbian. Everyone in the damn _scene_ knows I'm a lesbian, that's how obvious I am. That's got to be the stupidest question you've ever asked me." 

Ikje snorted. "Alright, but that doesn't explain why the hell you're here, taking up space in _my_ bar counter all week."

"I have my reasons." Nayeon said, vaguely, turning back to her notes, before she forgot the sentence she'd just read. Ikje frowned, but went back to wiping down the counter, with a shrug.

"You're crushing on _someone_ , that's for sure." he murmured and Nayeon didn't bother to deign him with a response.)

And okay, maybe she stayed there a bit _too_ long to be establishing good sleeping patterns before the big practise exam, and maybe staying awake in her regular classes without having Donghyuk or Jackson poking her awake was near impossible now, but hey, at least she was being pro-active about this? The last time she'd gotten a crush had been a disaster of Level Nine: equivalent to the time she'd dropped and smashed a mirror down the stairs, and in attempting to clean it up, fell down the stairs herself and sliced herself in about three different locations. And it had ended with her heart even more sliced up and bitter than her poor, glass-spotted hands had ever been. 

And Nayeon knew that the disaster had been her fault, and the fact that she'd not done her research and had idolized Zinger's beautiful thighs and haughty rapping just a bit too much. She should have known that chasing after elder women would be a bad idea and that confessing love after a very short amount of time would end badly, but well, Nayeon had been young, naive and lied to by k-dramas. And then she'd had to watch as Zinger fell for someone else, in slow bitter disappointment. 

God. Nayeon didn't think she could bear to go through that again. No way. This time, it was going to be less disastrous, and less painful. That was a promise! 

Even if her heart twisted up into tiny little knots, knots of pain and longing and wistful wonder and the desire to see her again was absolutely overwhelming, sometimes, especially late at night, when Nayeon struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in her blankets, kicking herself for obsessing so much over someone whom she'd only seen for a few moments, and yet unable to tear herself from the tiny details, that impressed themselves upon her mind at the most inconvenient moments. 

("Nayeon..." asked Donghyuk, on the fifth day, as Nayeon stared blankly at the pages of Japanese, the words sort of blurring over, into a haze of good and not good, superimposed by the slight memory of Yoongi's lips curling upwards. "Nayeonie, are you sure she isn't straight?"

Nayeon looked up, blinking at Donghyuk, who looked very uncomfortable, biting down on the edge of his lip. She was a little dumbstruck: she thought he'd already reached his capacity for emotional expression at the beginning of this week, and this was unexpected. "Are you alright? Do you have a fever?" asked Nayeon, deflecting the question, but for once, Donghyuk was being completely serious about something that wasn't music. 

"Nayeonie." he said, firmly. "Are you sure she isn't straight? Because we both know you can't fuck with straight girls. That's a one way trip to making your life even worse." 

"...I don't know." Nayeon answered, honestly and Donghyuk only looked more worried, as his hand slipped down into the crook of her shoulder and squeezed, a gentle reassurance that Nayeon hadn't even known that she'd needed.) 

All of which accumulated to being here, inside the Dragon's Kiss for the eighth night in a row, almost one week after she had been plunged into feelings and unbearable levels of hope and sap. Today, without need for her study materials, Nayeon had grabbed a table slightly closer to the dance floor, but away from the majority of the action. It was Friday, which did technically mean she could compete without feeling bad about it, but she hadn't written anything new all week, too occupied with studying and looking for Gloss through the crowd. 

She could probably try for something now, she mused, sincerely debating whether she could ask Ikje for a pen and use a few napkins to pen together something small and witty, but she didn't quite feel inspired tonight, just a sort of lethargic tired, the aftermath of taking the NUAT. 

...she probably shouldn't have come to the club tonight. Should have gone to bed early, or spent the night surfing some shitty web-dramas, but her legs had pulled her here anyway, and the part of her heart which just screamed about Min Yoongi 24/7 hadn't even let her consider the option of not coming. 

"Yo, what's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone~" leered a familiar voice into her ear, arm swung around her shoulder and Nayeon looked up with a sigh, towards Hunchul, who grinned at her, with the crooked smile that made so many women fall for him. 

"You're so creepy, oppa. Why the hell am I even friends with you?" she complained, as Hunchul dragged a chair up to take a seat with her, ignoring her half-hearted complaints. "What are you doing, I thought you had work on fridays?" she asked, curiously, propping her chin in her palms. 

"Switched my shift with someone else, I'll be gone sunday night, but that's no huge loss, shit all happens on sundays." Hunchul said, cheerily, "What's this about a crush, though? Ikje-hyung mentioned that you've been here all week." 

"More's the pity, I have to deal with your face." Nayeon said, ignoring the second question. It was tolerable for Donghyuk to be in the know about Yoongi, because Donghyuk knew _all_ of her secrets and she knew all of his, even the ones she rather wished she didn't, but she definitely portrayed a different sort of image to her crew, which she didn't particularly feel like ruining with the stupid, bubbling emotions that were coming out of her right now. It had taken a long time to be seen as competent, worthy of respect and on the same level as them, and she didn't want something like her mild obsession with seeing more female rappers as charismatic as Gloss back on the stage, to ruin all of her hard work of the past three years. 

Hunchul pulled a face. "You're so meeeean to me, Nayeonie, even worse of a dongsaeng than Donghyuk." he complained, trying to pull an aegyo face. 

"I'm insulted, oppa, Donghyuk's definitely worse than me." Nayeon complained, unable to stop the grin spreading over her face at Hunchul's grin. "Also please never do aegyo again, I'll need brain bleach otherwise." 

Hunchul laughed, lowly, and Nayeon grinned at him absently, eyes flickering to the stage as Taegyun announced yet another rapper, that was not Gloss. She exhaled, heavily, drawing Hunchul's attention. He lifted one perfected plucked eyebrow, a perfect picture of curious disdain and Nayeon made a face of vague discontent in his direction. He looked content to leave it at that, for which she was grateful, but she groaned as from behind her, two hands covered in rings covered her eyes. 

"Dongsaaaeng~" Hyosang said, cheerily, as Nayeon attempted to squirm out of his grip. "What are you two up to?"

"You know why she's being weird?" asked Hunchul, cheerily, reaching up to hi-five Hyosang, with ease.

"Oh, isn't it obvious? She's _pining_ , languishing in love, and isn't even the slightest bit subtle. Even I wasn't this bad." Hyosang said, with an amused grin, his tone become airy and mocking. God, she really hated her friends, sometimes. 

"No honey, you were worse." cut in a soft, familiar voice. From behind Hyosang appeared Jinsol, tall and elegant, the edges of her brown hair curling over her collarbones and trailing over the edges of the almost scandalously short clubbing dress she wore. As ever, she was absolutely stunning and it took a couple of moments for Nayeon to blink herself out of her gaze and grin up at Jinsol properly. 

"Unnie! Haven't seen you in a while, did you finish that audition thing?" she asked, shifting around, as Hyosang let go of her face, and pulled up another chair to join her and Hunchul at the table. 

"Hiya, Nayeon~" Jinsol trilled, taking a seat on Hyosang's lap, much to his happiness, as his hands instantly wound around her waist, to rest possessively against the corners of her dress. "Yes, life's been insanely busy, I've been so busy at the theatre department in university with memorizing lines and acting as supreme overlord of the management. It's rewarding! But definitely hard. Don't be stage manager and one of the main cast, that's a recipe for disaster." 

Nayeon smiled, pride throughout her posture. Jinsol was someone entirely admirable: who somehow managed to look obedient enough to fit well in society, while still pushing forward to achieve the very tips of her own ambition. It wasn't a path that Nayeon could ever see herself taking, but it was something she could admire in others. "Good for you unnie, taking life by the reigns, even if it's hard."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see you in a musical someday, Jinsol-ah," added Hunchul, easy smile over his face. "You've still yet to sing for one of my albums. Or even for Hyosang, you know, that's something you should get on." 

"Hey, Nayeon," Hyosang asked, ignoring Jinsol's flirty smile back towards Hunchul and dismissive response. "Why's Donghyuk not here with you anyway?"

"Oh." Nayeon smirked, as she marked the corner of her book and tucked it into her lap, "He hasn't been studying properly so he failed the NUAT. His mom's pissed to all hell, she almost threw out his lyrics notebook when she found out, so he's staying at home revising under her guidance." Nayeon thought that Donghyuk was lucky, honestly, his mother was soft enough on him that the punishment was almost too soft for the crime. Nayeon knew that if she'd failed the NUAT, her mother would never let her leave the house again and chain her to her books. 

"How did you do?" asked Jinsol, her bright eyes turning to Nayeon. Hunchul made a noise of agreement, as he turned to look at Nayeon with interest. They all knew that she was intelligent, they always commented on it whenever she made payment calculations for the studio rent in her head in just a few seconds, or when she wrote very complicated lyrics referencing Korean literature, but it was still nice to have the country as a whole, acknowledge it. 

"Oh..." Nayeon grinned, with pride, "Second place in all the country, tied with about three others. I missed two questions in Japanese, but otherwise a perfect score." Perhaps, had she met Min Yoongi a week later, Nayeon could have gotten a completely perfect score, but Nayeon figured that second place was still a stunning achievement. It was the highest mark in the greater Seoul district, anyway, first place had gone to some kid in Daegu, was what she'd heard. 

Hunchul's mouth dropped wide open, in surprise, Jinsol pumped her fists, in happy jubilation, and Hyosang whistled, lowly, clapping slowly. "Damn Nayeon, what the hell? Leave the rest of us some pride, geez." he complained, voice loud, drawing the attention of a few dancers behind them. He looked impressed though, a slow, disbelieving smile over his handsome face. 

Hunchul coughed, with a wide grin. "Here, Yeonie, I'll buy you a drink, lord knows you deserve one." he asked, standing up in his chair to call towards Ikje, who probably couldn't even properly see them through the crowd of young adults wanting some shots. 

Nayeon rolled her eyes, leaning forward. She wasn't planning on rapping today, since it seemed like it was another Gloss-free day, and she didn't like drinking when it wasn't for the purpose of soothing her stage nerves. Alcohol wasn't unpleasant, but there was no particular thrill in drinking it, not when she'd been drinking limited amounts and different types since she was fifteen. "It's alright, oppa, don't worry. Get me a drink later."

"If you wait until later, you'll beat him at a competition and he'll be too sour to buy you a drink, just get one now. " Hyosang said, slyly, and Jinsol giggled, as Hunchul glared at them both. 

"He's right, you know, Nayeon-ah, men are always useless like that, always hate being outplayed at their own game." Jinsol added, eyes glittering. "Hunchul-ah, just go up to Ikje-oppa and ask for a drink, you lazy-ass." 

"Pomegranate okay?" asked Hunchul, pushing himself up despite looking entirely put-upon, "I'm feeling tequila today." 

"Whatever, I don't mind. You're buying, so anything's good." Nayeon said, waving her hand, dismissively and Hunchul grinned, pushing his way through the girls, winking at one in a bright red dress and one of the best winged eyeliners that Nayeon had even seen. Of course, Nayeon was seriously doubting his capability to pay, Hunchul seemed allergic to the prospect of spending money in general, but she was touched by the gesture anyway. 

"You and Donghyuk ditched yesterday, I'm shocked and offended that you value my track so little." said Hyosang, with a pout. 

"I texted you, oppa, I had cram school and it was the day before the NUAT, man." Nayeon said, ears pealed towards the stage, where Taegyun was announcing more people to go up. "Dunno if Donghyuk's free to go anywhere except school at the moment, since he's a dumbass, but I'll drop by soon, tell me when you're free."

"Sure you won't be holed up here instead?" asked Hyosang, propping his chin on Jinsol's wide shoulders, voice quiet and piercing. "You can't keep waiting around for no reason and not write new stuff. The Rap Goddess has to fight to keep her title." 

Jinsol watched them, quietly and nodded, in agreement. "Passive pining is never going to work, Nayeon-ah. You have to be more active like Hyosang was, otherwise your crush will never notice you. Or you'll be roped along with your heart on the wringer, which would be an absolute tragedy." she said, her voice decisive and firm. "Listen to unnie. Unnie's got more experience than you in matters of the heart." 

Of course, Jinsol had always been on the _receiving_ ends of affection, because of her beauty and her overwhelming charm, Nayeon thought, and would therefore have far less experience that Nayeon did, but it was an uncharitable thought and would almost certainly end with Jinsol smacking her, so she said nothing. 

"It's..." Nayeon trailed off at two unimpressed looks in her way, that looked near identical. It didn't help that Jinsol and Hyosang had faces that were so similar, soft and pouty, except for their cutting cheekbones. "I'm not very inspired at the moment, so it was fine, would have been useless in your studio anyway. But if she doesn't show up again in the next week, I'll stop coming here everyday. Promise."

"Good." Jinsol, before giggling as Hyosang pressed a kiss to her collarbone, lovestruck eyes up at her. 

Hunchul returned, three drinks in the crooks of his elbows, roughly depositing them on the table, making one of them slosh over and spill. "If I'm not back, assume I just got in on what looks to be the best threesome of my life." Hunchul said, with a lecherous wink. "See you losers later."

Hyosang hollered loudly, in a mixture of support, annoyance and nonsense words. Nayeon wolf-whistled loudly, making Jinsol dissolve into amused laughter, crooked fingers coming up to cover her mouth, and a lot of people stared in their direction, judgmental or equally amused. Hunchul just shot them finger guns and headed back towards the bar, to talk to the girl in a red dress. 

"Literally the only thing going for him is that he can clean up nicely." wondered Nayeon, as she watched him disappear, "I have no idea how he manages to snag all of those one-night stands."

"You only need looks to get one-night stands. Personality only matters when you're dating." Hyosang said, flatly, eyes not budging from Jinsol's lips and she down her drink, red painted lips fitting neatly over the rim, in a motion that was meant to be teasing. Nayeon felt like she was intruding a bit, and sighed. The sad life of being a third-wheel. At least she and Donghyuk could usually pretend that they didn't exist, but of course, she had been abandoned by Donghyuk and his inability to study or even ask for her help, today. 

"That doesn't explain you." Nayeon retorted, making Hyosang gasp in annoyance, and Jinsol almost choke on the amaretto cherry.

"Be nice, Nayeon. Hyosang's a sweet guy. And extremely talented, if you get my gist." Jinsol said, eyes sparkling just a bit too much as she made a slightly crude gesture with her left hand. "That's always a huge factor in keeping guys around."

"Oh my god." Nayeon said, as Hyosang pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, clearly happy to have been defended. The kiss lingered and Jinsol leant back against Hyosang's chest, attention only half on Nayeon. "Go be gross elsewhere, I'm trying to read peacefully here. PDA is reserved for the dance floor." 

"Don't mind if we do." Hyosang said, picking up Jinsol, who squealed in surprise,and giggled, as they both stumbled over to the dance floor. Neither of them could dance, but they seemed happy enough, drunk on each other instead of alcohol. Nayeon let a small, fond smile touch her lips. 

As much as she ragged on Hyosang, it was clear that he was absolutely head-over-heels for Jinsol, and that she loved him back, unconditionally. She was a little envious, honestly. It wasn't easy to find a relationship like that, where they were both fully supportive and not jealous of each other, and where they could tell each other everything. She sort of yearned for that, in her heart, even if she was young and it was probably a little too early to be yearning for that sort of slow, steady relationship, not in a world where it was so hard to find that sort of instant connection.

Still, the world had a population of seven billion and that was only increasing every day. There had to be someone out there for her, someone who would understand and empathize with some of her struggles, she mused, as she pulled up her book again, and got ready to read again, ears half on the stage and Taegyun's soothing voice. 

"You haven’t been performing all week." a voice came from behind her, startling Nayeon immensely, coming up from behind her. She seriously need to get a better table, but this had the best vantage point to the stage, despite having her back to the front entrance. Nayeon craned her head around and froze, as she realized that the disturber of peace was Min Yoongi, wearing a deep blue hoodie and a white snapback, which exposed her smooth forehead and the slight spots just above her eyebrows. Her lips looked soft and against her chest was a shark-tooth and feather necklace, which had a small locket attached to it as well, the one that usually opened to reveal a small picture. 

"A-Ah, Yoongi-unnie." Nayeon stammered, tangling herself with her chair as she attempted to get up and bow while still not collapsing over herself entirely. "You’re here? You've been here all week?"

Yoongi's face was nothing short of derisive, as she took Hunchul's previous chair, flopping down in a completely languid, boneless way. "Why do you think I'm asking, kiddo? Also sit down, your clumsy giraffe ass is making me angsty."

Nayeon refrained from acting like her younger sister and pouting about that remark (they were only a year apart!). "Yeah, I don't compete on weekdays." she said, with a slight smile, trying to be a little smoother as she sat back down and smoothed her skirt over her long legs. She'd shaved properly right? Yes, she could see that clearly. As much as razors and the idea of women shaving legs was a capitalist venture that was targeted to make women buy even more useless items than they already did, Nayeon did like how she looked with her legs shaved and she wanted Yoongi to like it too. It was like makeup, but less tragic and Nayeon actually knew how to shave her legs and did it on a regular basis for herself, and not for somebody else. If Yoongi liked it, it was a bonus, that was all. 

"Why?" asked Yoongi, not even making the pretense at being polite, as she shrugged off her hoodie, to reveal a black, loose t-shirt, eyes not even looking in Nayeon's direction. Ouch.

The real answer played on her lips, but the autopilot-cocky answer, which she would give to any other rapper in the club, forced itself up out of her throat, because of the rudeness. "Got to give everyone else a fighting chance, right?" she said, lowly. 

The answer startled a laugh from Yoongi, who properly turned to look at her, with a wide grin that made her look a lot younger, spreading across her soft features. "Arrogant, are we?"

Nayeon smirked as she downed the last of the tequila cocktail in one swoop, licking her lips as slowly as she could, hoping that she didn't look like an idiot. "Not really, it's hardly arrogance when I can back it up. You saw me on Saturday." she said, easily, and her fingers twitched around the side of the glass. "Besides, I really do have to give people a fair go at the stage. Because you know, I didn't name myself. I was Runch Randa befor--don't laugh!" she warned as Yoongi laughed, her small eyes disappearing altogether and Nayeon could feel her cheeks heat up from embarrassment and happiness, at how that smile affected her. "But you know. Everyone here named me Rap Goddess after I beat them all. Even the ones who hate me call me a rap goddess."

Yoongi nodded, softly. "You’re good." They lapsed into a comfortable silence, as they both looked out towards the stage, where two newbies were battling it out, not doing half-badly. But Nayeon knew that she had to do something about her pining, now that Yoongi was here and had approached her first. 

But before she could say anything, Yoongi’s look moved away from the stage, and back towards Nayeon. "What’s the real reason you don't compete on weekdays, huh?"

Nayeon stammered and laughed, nervously, wondering if she was really that easy to read. "Well, most weekdays I have to go to cram school or study." she said, seriously, aware of the Maya Lou Angelou book on her lap and how it wasn't _technically_ studying. "So no time to compete. Or get drunk, either, not if I want to be coherent in class at 7am the next day." _Not_ that she was all that coherent in class without sleep, either, but being drunk was less explainable than being tired. 

The small eyes focused on the cover of Nayeon's book and laughed, lowly, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. Her laugh was quiet and almost like the rumbling of an engine and nothing like the ladylike laugh of Jinsol or the cute, tinkling laugh of Jimin or the slow sound of honey like Zinger's, and god, Nayeon was _so_ gone. Her hair was sticking on end along her arms, at that sound and at those curved lips pulling upwards at the sides because of Nayeon. "Still in school? Don’t envy you at all, ha." Yoongi murmured, her small pink tongue wetting her lips.

"Yeah, you're all done with it now. I should be jealous! Are you going to uni here, then?" Nayeon asked, aware that her voice was perhaps not as smooth as it could have been, because of her nerves. God, it had never been like this with the only other crush she'd had, and the unfamiliarity was throwing Nayeon off, making her seem lame. Why was she always falling for elder women? It made this all so much more sad, her crushes more unattainable and fueled her disdain of romance. Yet, she kept tripping over herself like this, whenever they paid her even the slightest bit of attention, despite that disdain. what did that hypocrisy say about her mental state?

Yoongi pulled off her hat, and ruffled through her blonde ( _blonde!!!!_ ) hair, swept back and slightly crunchy. Nayeon resisted the urge to ruffle through it, but couldn't stop the approving noise from the back of her throat. Luckily, Yoongi didn't seem to notice it. "Not a fucking chance. I ditched school as soon as I graduated and came to Seoul as quickly as I could."

"That’s the dream of every rapper….your parents let you? Wow I really am jealous." Nayeon said, softly, with an amazed look. If only her parents would pave the way for her ambition so easily.

"More like they couldn't stop me." Yoongi said, with a snort, "I was the youngest daughter, they would have kept me at home and married me off, if I wasn't also a stubborn bitch."

"Strong-willed? I can see that, you refused to give up on Saturday." Nayeon said, trying to not focus on the way that Yoongi's throat had bobbed and the smooth sleek lines of her throat, and think about something less likely to make her boxers wet. Donghyuk's shitty room, the smell of the trash dump around the corner from their cram school, creepy old men who tried to hit on her when she walked home at midnight..... 

"Why should I have? I had a chance of winning until your last stanza." Yoongi challenged, eyes narrowing, with amusement. 

Nayeon's cheeks pinked, and she grinned, toothily at Yoongi, ducking her head a little bit. Okay, no, she was not making it out of this with dry panties, not with Yoongi's voice twisting upwards like that. "Unnie, no offence, but I had it in the bag from the beginning."

"You wish. I had you on the offbeat round." Yoongi said, smugly, not taking offence at Nayeon's overconfident bragging. "If we go again, I'll beat you for sure."

It took a lot of effort to not jump up and down in her chair at those words. Yoongi _wanted_ to fight again, to try and beat Nayeon again, and damn, if Nayeon didn’t want that just as much, to face the new challenge. "You want to go again? I bet Taegyun will keep the stage open. These idiots are useless anyway." Nayeon asked, trying to act casual, but was clearly failing, as in her attempt to stand up and flag over Ikje and close Hunchul's tab (there was no way he'd actually bought drinks for them), she managed to knock over the entire table.

Yoongi laughed with her whole body as Nayeon spluttered and attempted to right it again, before Ikje came over and started calling her the Queen of Destruction. At least she'd finished her drink, or she was sure that Yoongi wouldn't be laughing now. It was a little hard to concentrate on damage control when Yoongi was laughing like that, though, and god, what Nayeon wouldn't do to have Yoongi like that because Nayeon had cracked a funny joke, instead of almost destroying the club's furniture. "Oh my god, you really are a clumsy giraffe, let me do it." Yoongi said, crouching down to pick up the glasses and shoving the table up with one hand. 

"You try having about a eight inches of extra limbs and see how you do." Nayeon retorted, trying her hardest to not be noticed by Jinsol and Hyosang who were edging back from the centre of the dance floor, giggling and snogging each other clumsily. "It’s not easy, you know."

Yoongi laughed again, but this time, it seemed more endearing, the sides of her eyes crinkling upwards as she met Nayeon's gaze, their hands brushing as they both reached to smooth out the pages of Nayeon's book. The elder rapper looked like she was going to say something, but sadly, it was impossible to hide Nayeon's size, even from underneath a table, and Hyosang stumbled over, away from the dance floor, tugging a compliant Jinsol along with him. "The fuck, Yeonie? Is this another one of your fucking social experiments like the pillow fort?"

"It wasn't a fucking pillow fort, it was a simulation of the man-cave and seeing why the illusion of isolation makes men feel more secure in their masculinity. And it was fucking bullshit, that's what it was. You're bullshit." snapped Nayeon, jumping upwards and knocking her head against the underside of the table, with a loud crack. Yoongi cracked up, easily, falling backwards on her butt to giggle at Nayeon's expression of resigned pain, as her hand came up to rub the side of her head.

Hyosang, in his drunken state, seemed to think that was the funniest thing ever, as he died against Jinsol's side (which was hilariously ironic, considering his face was the biggest joke that Nayeon knew) but Jinsol, seemed to be coherent enough to notice Yoongi, who was straightening up, _without_ unfortunate table mishaps. "Hi, are you one of Nayeon's friends? I'm Jinsol, her unnie, and this is Hyosang, my boyfriend and member of DNH with Nayeon."

Yoongi seemed about as disarmed by Jinsol's voice and appearance and kind manners as Nayeon had been when she'd first met the elder actress, and she gazed upwards at Jinsol, eyes widening in surprise. "Uh, sorta. I'm Gloss, Min Yoongi, part of D-TOWN. Doubt anyone’s heard of them in Seoul, though." she said, answering with a little more haste, and Nayeon felt simultaneously happy and disappointed. On the one hand, only lesbian or bisexual girls reacted like that to Jinsol, which meant that Nayeon wasn’t tempting her luck with a straight girl. On the other hand, Nayeon hadn’t received anything close to attraction from Yoongi, only a mild interest, which made sense, because Jinsol was gorgeous and goals in every way, but it didn't mean that Nayeon wasn’t a little saddened to be completely sidelined.

But well. If Yoongi had thought she was strong-willed, Nayeon was even more so, fueled by years of always getting what she wanted after hard work. If Yoongi wasn’t attracted to her yet, Nayeon was going to do her best to make it happen. Jimin had promised to help her with Operation Seduction, anyway. 

"Unnie, are you and Hyosang-oppa heading home?" asked Nayeon, as she shook out her black hair, and combed her fingers through it. 

"I was thinking about it," Jinsol admitted, hands winding around Hyosang's waist as he slung his hands over her shoulders. "But not if you're planning on staying longer, your mom would flip out if you went home alone."

Nayeon rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like she didn't end up walking home from the club alone, anyway, on the days when she pretended that she was at cram school and came here instead, but then again, Jinsol didn’t know about those sessions. Only DNH did. "It’s alright unnie, go home, nobody wants to walk in on you two in the bathrooms or some shit. I'll stay until the club closes or something and ask Ikje-oppa to walk me back." A lie, because Ikje thought it was stupid to baby her, just as stupid as Nayeon thought it was, but it would probably suffice for Jinsol. 

“Ahh, I don't know, Nayeon…" Jinsol said, eyes looking nervous, even as she got more touchy with Hyosang, who was making weird faces at Nayeon, probably having finally noticed that Nayeon had been talking with Yoongi. Nayeon gave them a significant look and drew a line across her throat. God knew, she really didn't want to see Hyosang and Jin getting it on or have them ruin her chances with Yoongi. 

Yoongi cleared her throat, hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie. "I can walk her home, Jinsol-sunbae. I'll be here for some time." Nayeon's eyes widened as she whipped around to look at Yoongi, who looked embarrassed for the first time that night. "Not a problem for me, if you live close by."

Jinsol smiled, a distinctly smug tinge to her face, even as she was turning away and Hyosang grinned easily, making the universal 'getting some' face. "Alright then, I guess you're in good hands. See you later, Nayeon-ah, Yoongi-sshi." They disappeared onto the dance floor again and Nayeon blinked, feeling a little like she'd been run over by one of those trams that ran in downtown. Why had Yoongi offered to walk her home? There had been no reason to do so, not really, so had Yoongi wanted to impress Jinsol by looking responsible or had she really wanted to walk Nayeon home?

"You have a curfew?" asked Yoongi, looking rather amused.

"Not quite." Nayeon, shrugging, leaning back against the rail that separated the bar and tables area from the dance floor and the stage, "Mom just doesn't want me to walk home alone at night." She didn't particularly want to elaborate on her Mother's predisposition to worry, but Yoongi looked too interested for Nayeon's liking.

With a light ruffle of her hair again, as she adjusted her hat, Yoongi's gaze was piercing, the elder girl stepping forward until she was next to Nayeon, pasty elbows balanced on the metal rails. "Any reason?"

"What other reason does there need to be?" Nayeon asked, bitterly, "I'm a tall high-school girl walking home alone at the middle of the night. Perfect target for people trying something, or even just the people that don't like me. I dunno, it's sensible, I guess, but it doesn't mean that it's not bullshit that I have to have a fucking entourage, while every other member of my crew has freedom to do what they like." Nayeon licked her lips, and pulled a face, "Usually my best friend walks me back, because we live close by, but he's an idiot and failed the NUAT, so nobody to walk me back, and I totally lied about coming here anyway--"

She cut herself off, realizing that she was rambling, but Yoongi was surprisingly looking at her pretty intently, and Nayeon couldn't stop the small spark of hope, blossoming in the centre of her chest that prayed and wondered whether Yoongi perhaps returned the interest that Nayeon had in her. 

"What a bad girl." mocked Yoongi, a smirk curling over her lips, and Nayeon rolled her eyes, hoping that the dark of the club back here was enough to hide the light blush on her cheeks. "Such a rebel, lying to your parents about your nightly activities."

"You make it sound like I'm off shooting up drugs or having illicit sex or something." Nayeon complained, "They ought to be grateful that all I do is rap and compose music."

"And they're not?" asked Yoongi, perceptively. 

Nayeon shrugged, pulling a face. "Not really. Who is happy about their precious genius-IQ daughter wanting to go into rap instead of law or medicine?"

Yoongi's gaze turned back to Nayeon, slow and lazy, blinking slowly. She licked her lips slowly, eyes far-away as she coughed, clearly deep in thought. "Well, I understand and I hate it at the same time. They want the best for us, because they think that the only way to succeed is through schoolwork, and they want us to be successful. Especially if you have a genius IQ, they see that you should be entirely academically focused, right?" Nayeon noded, slowly, unable to take her eyes off Yoongi, whose words were halting and slow, but clearly quite well thought out. "But they're wrong. Intelligence isn't just something that can be expressed through books and it won't matter if you don't love your books. There's a brilliance that shines through you when you do what you love, that will make anything possible. It's something that makes people stand up and notice you, and that's a passion that will lead you to success. So you just gotta ignore them. Even when it's hard."

Nayeon stared speechless at Yoongi for a few moment, mouth dry and heart pounding, slowly. "T-thanks, unnie." mumbled Nayeon, feeling a smile spread across her face. "Someone should hire you as a pep talker, or something..." 

"Like I was complimenting you." Yoongi said, rolling her eyes, but if Nayeon wasn't mistaken, there was a slightly red tinge to her cheeks. "I was clearly talking about me, brat."

"Yeah yeah." Nayeon said, falling back into the familiar routine of teasing and heckling those who were elder to her. "Clearly, when you mentioned that Genius IQ, you were talking about you, when you can barely string five coherent words together in a row." 

Yoongi whistled, lowly, eyes burning with challenge. "You want to go? Right now?" asked Yoongi, straightening upwards, abruptly, stepping closer into Nayeon's space. Nayeon had to physically shut down her brain to stop it from short-circuiting. 

"Of course." Nayeon said, however, despite the weariness from the exams and the lack of sleep and the general dearth of inspiration that weighed down her bones. Yoongi was here, and was asking to compete again. How could she deny? Even if she lost, she would be winning. "How could I deny a chance to rub your nose to the whetstone, unnie?"

-

Frankly, the rap battle passed in a haze of cheers and Yoongi's beautiful face, as she spat out verses and lyrics so poignant and yet witty, that it took a sincere amount of effort to not clap every time she finished her part. Nayeon wasn't sure what she herself had said and rapped, losing herself entirely on the beat, but she knew it wasn't as good as it had been the first night, knew that today, Yoongi had completely wiped the floor with her, despite Nayeon's boasting from before, and as she felt the post-show vibes dim down, stepping away from the stage to drop back down on the dance floor, it was no surprise to feel the corners of her eyes drooping. 

Yoongi was swamped by people congratulating her, as soon as she dropped down from the stage smoothly; some rappers that Nayeon knew and could actively call out teasingly, for switching allegiance so easily, and other that Nayeon couldn't recognize, but Yoongi seemed to know quite well. They all asked her what was up with her, and she spoke frankly of her exam. Practically every rapper on the scene had already taken it and easily commiserated with her, clapping her shoulder and ruffling her hair. It was a little embarrassing, and perhaps a little condescending, but she accepted the support in the spirit it was being given, with a wide, dimpled grin and a confused tilt of her head every time they asked her a question about her loss. 

Finally though, as she watched Yoongi get more and more awkward, Nayeon ducked away, grabbing Yoongi's wrist and pulling her away, before someone could ask another question. As they ducked away, into the back alleyway, Yoongi exhaled easily into the night air and fumbled with a pack of cigarettes in her hoodie pocket, though she didn't put it back on. 

Away from the bright lights of the club, Nayeon felt her eyes start to droop, the real exhaustion hitting her carefully, as she slumped back against a wall, carefully, tugging at the strands of her hair. "I want a rematch." Yoongi said, quietly, making Nayeon look up, in vague surprise. 

"Huh?" said Nayeon, cleverly, as Yoongi propped the cigarette between her lips, but didn't light up as she pushed away from the wall and started to walk away. Nayeon followed her, her lethargy slowing her down enough so she didn't stumble over her own two feet. 

"You heard me. I want a rematch. That was lame. You were good, sure but you were so tired that you weren't trying your hardest. I'm insulted, you know, I've been thinking of new raps all week." Yoongi said, through the cigarette stick in her lips, somehow still perfectly clear. Nayeon's gaze turned to Yoongi, who despite the frown on her face seemed entirely self-confident in saying that she had been preparing for their rematch all week. Nayeon felt a mix between guilty and extremely relieved.

"Sorry unnie." she apologized, quietly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, turning a corner to pull them the long way to her house. "Hey, actually, you know that idiot Hyosang? He's a producer at heart, actually, and he said he has a track for me and Hyuk, but my best friend's out of action all month. Want to collab for that track instead?" she offered, easily. Yoongi shot her a sidelong glance, saying nothing as the cigarettes slowly tilted downwards, from the force with which Yoongi was biting down on it. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, I like get that totally, spiritually and everything, but I thought it would be cool, it's so rare to collaborate with another female rappe--"

"Relax." Yoongi said, a wide grin stretching across her face, looking quite amused and happy as she cut across Namjoon's suddenly panicked ramblings. "I'd love to collab with you. Though I'm a producer myself, your friend has to promise not to get mad if I tweak his track." 

Nayeon grinned back, warm and happy, as she pulled out her phone. "Okay. Good. That's good. What's your number, unnie? I'll text you his address and you can tell me what days you're free. I can skip cram school on any day, so it's on you." Do you work?"

"Yeah, shitty ass job at this one hotel. Thank god it's only during the days, and I can sign out early if the customers are marginally less shitty on some days." Yoongi said, tongue sticking out sort of cutely, as she tapped in her number, carefully. "There."

Nayeon smiled, easily, and tucked it back into her pocket. "I'm looking forward to it, unnie. If you have any lyrics ideas before we meet, send them my way, so I know what to write about."

"Uninspired?" asked Yoongi, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I thought you were just tired tonight." 

"Inspired about the wrong things." answered Nayeon honestly. When her usual songs were about the toxicity of the school system, judgement of peers and the crippling anxiety that youth were faced with, a song about love and beautiful women and the way that Yoongi's lips glistened with spit after almost a minute of pure fire without stopping to take a breath was probably too jarring. She'd never been this shaken up by her crush before, and she didn't like the unfamiliar sensation of being entirely useless. "Maybe I'll get it back when I'm not worrying about the entrance exams." 

"Maybe so." Yoongi said, nodding, eyes a little worried, as they drew close to Nayeon's suburban house and the neat streets. Her eyes flickered out over the perfection of the area and her lips twitched, with a wry humour that Nayeon both understood and could never understand. 

"This is me." Nayeon said, awkwardly, pushing back her black hair, as he bit down on her bottom lip. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course." Yoongi said, raising a hand in greeting, as she turned around, to walk away. Nayeon watched her go for a couple of moments, before she pulled off her leather jacket and made herself look less like she'd been out at the club, and had been at Jimin's house instead. 

-

 **Me, 23:45**  
Did you get the address?

 **Gloss Goddess, 00:47**  
yeah it's pretty close to dtowns studio so it shouldn't be a problem.  
Oh, and wednesday or thursday are good. can do monday too though its a bit short notice yeah?

 **Me, 00:50**  
Just a bit.  
I think thursday is the day Hyosang-hyung's usually free too.  
But uhh, no smoking zone. It's a rule after Hunchul-hyung made the whole place stink like weed and we almost got evicted.

 **Gloss Goddess, 00:56**  
whos stupid enough to smoke in a room w/out a ventilator? lmao  
dw i don't actually smoke

 **Me, 00:57**  
Then why carry them around?

 **Gloss Goddess, 01:05**  
personal questions already? 

**Me, 01:06**  
sorry. Just curious. Sorry if I overstepped anything. 

**Gloss Goddess, 05:24**  
its alright  
in the process of quitting at the moment. a bit harder than i thought but im doing okay. having them around even if i dont light up feels good.  
damn sound like more of a junkie than i thought  
its not that serious  
but its more addictive than the stage and thats hard

 **Me, 09:45**  
that could be a good song subject. Addictions. 

**Gloss Goddess, 11:42**  
What are yours?

 **Me, 12:15**  
Hard to say.  
Rapping and being on stage obviously. Would probably say pastries because i am a pastry freak  
Donghyuk says I'm addicted to being an ass which is only partially untrue.  
probably my phone though, i have a mild panic attack any time i leave it behind for more than a half hour without other internet access.  
which is the major problem of our generation  
addiction to our technology and the convenience offered to us. 

**Gloss Goddess, 13:01**  
.....  
really epitomizing the tortured artist here arent you?  
you really are a rich kid man

 **Me: 13:08**  
feel like i should be insulted but then again, it's true LOL  
other rich kids are obnoxious as all hell though ;;  
save me from the miseries of private high schools, unnie. 

**Gloss Goddess, 13:09**  
Ms Genius IQ? w/school troubles? perish the thought  
but yes i will launch an intrepid rescue  
probablyll kick me out the moment they see my pasty ass but details right?  
wait by your window sill and shit

 **Me, 13:11**  
"It is the east and juliet the sun?"  
i would sincerely love a rescue though, my teacher is so boring  
i thought that the shitty kid with dreads on friday was awful, but now, somehow lim-ssem outweighs that all

 **Gloss Goddess, 13:15**  
texting in class? naughty naughty  
also no way man  
that romantic shit isnt cut out for me  
more likely to say 'rapunzel you bitch let down your fucking hair'

 **Me, 13: 18**  
:'D  
You're so nice to me unnie

 **Gloss Goddess, 13:20**  
too right  
want me to meet you after school today?  
rescue you from boredom?  
i have some lyrics

 **Me, 13:36**  
Sorry for not responding, unnie, Kim-ssem almost caught me texting and that would be a fucking disaster  
I would love to!  
you gonna show me your studio?  
or your songs, I couldn't find much of your discography online

 **Gloss Goddess, 13:39**  
we are not doing this over text  
see you in two hours kiddo

-

Nayeon wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting for her outside of school on a Monday afternoon after a day of on-and-off chats, but Yoongi already being outside her school gates, in a smart black button-down shirt, neat slacks and her blond hair curling around the ends of her chin, had not been it. Nayeon blinked, momentarily, before stepping forward towards Yoongi, despite some looks and stares she garnered for not walking around with Donghyuk or Jimin, and instead going off with someone new. 

"Hey there, Yoongi-unnie." said Nayeon, with a grin, "Looking smart."

"Yeah, work is a bitch." complained Yoongi, pushing herself up off the wall she'd been leaning against, pulling out some cheap earphones, connected to her phone, and passing them to Nayeon. "Just press play, the entire playlist is loaded on there." 

Nayeon smiled, feeling more than a little amused by Yoongi's appearance, with slightly dark circles under her eyes, looking thoroughly grumpy to be wearing smart clothes. It was a little easier to look at Yoongi and not feel entirely overwhelmed in the light of day, where both of them were not their rapping personas, but were just Yoongi and Nayeon. "You keep all of your songs on your phone? Narcissistic much, unnie..." Nayeon teased, unwinding the headphones to balance over the edge of her ears. Thank god they were the sports one, regular ones could never fit properly inside her ears. 

Yoongi rolled her eyes, not even responding as Nayeon pressed play and let the surprisingly smooth sounds rumble down her spine. The beat was heavy and sliding and as Yoongi started rapping, Nayeon couldn't help but think that the slightly confrontational tone of her voice, rough and hoarse contrasted perfectly with the almost soothing, pulsing beat. Damn. She hadn't been expecting this, and Nayeon bobbed her head, slowly, grin spreading across her face as Yoongi's rapidfire lyrics registered. 

Her expression must have been something because she could see Yoongi laugh a little, a tension that Nayeon hadn't noticed until now, leaving her shoulders. Nayeon grinned, widely at Yoongi. "It's so much smoother than I thought. unnie." she commented, cutting off what she was going to say next as Yoongi started _singing_.

She couldn't help it, her jaw dropped open, making a couple of people walking past them give them both weird looks. The words were a little clipped, as if she was a voice unfamiliar with singing and trying too hard to stay in tune, but damn, if the coarse, honest quality of Yoongi's singing voice didn't make Nayeon's knees weak. "Unnie..." said Nayeon, softly, her voice slightly shaky as she tried to gain back her composure, as Yoongi went back to rapping. "I didn't know you sung."

"Not usually." Yoongi said, looking a little embarrassed. "But my dongsaeng, Taehui who usually sings for me wasn't available, so I just let my demo track stay in the song." 

Naeyon internally called bullshit, that was too nicely done to be a real demo track voice, but she kept her mouth shut as the song switched, to something more like what you'd hear in a coffee shop, a light-hearted rapping feel. Nayeon swung her bag back and forth in time of the song, and Yoongi steered clear of the bag, murmuring something about clumsy giraffes, which made Nayeon pout at her. 

"This is really chill, unnie." said Nayeon, letting the low murmur of Yoongi's voice in her ear, rapping about wistful love and youthful delusions about what love should be like. "Makes me feel like those autumn days that you just go walking, you know, and you see the red leaves scattered on the pavement and they're undeniably beautiful, but they're being tread on anyway, because in the end, they have to fall and die...it's painful and relaxing at the same time. I don't think you're supposed to make songs like that, unnie."

Yoongi laughed, lowly, gaze on Nayeon's face, unreadable entirely. Nayeon felt her skin crawl. "Unnie...?" she asked, softly.

Yoongi shook her head, suddenly, tilting her gaze upwards, to stare at the wisps of clouds which spiralled across the sky. "No, it's nothing. Just wondering why the hell you aren't doing afterschool activities or some shit. That sort of writing sounds like it's straight out of poetry club."

Nayeon laughed, dryly. "No way, unnie, I have like no school spirit whatsoever." Honestly the faster she got out her school, the better. She disliked its blank white walls on the good days, and loathed every last tile on the bad days. "I hate that shit and because of my grades, the school actively encourages me to put the maximum amount of time on possible on studying at home, so I didn't even need to join one."

Yoongi gave her a look. "That explains why you skip cram school, of course." she snarked, lightly and Nayeon shrugged.

"Usually I go home early, finish homework and study, then go to the club when cram school is covering something I pretty much already completely know." Nayeon said, ignoring the fact that she had skipped the Japanese lesson that could have gotten her first place in the nation to go and see Gloss. Yoongi had become an exception to everything. "Didn't think you would care about that shit, unnie."

Yoongi shrugged, smirk playing over her face, as the song switched to another song,m harder and more angry, with a pulsing beat that seemed rather traditional in origin. "I guess it's just old loyalties pulling up. I was Treasurer of School Council for like four years..."

Nayeon gaped again, goggling at Yoongi in frank shock. The girl with dyed, cropped short blonde hair, barely touching her neck, the biggest resting bitch-face Nayeon had ever seen and who looked supremely uncomfortable in her current attire, had been a _School Council Member_? "What the fuck." Nayeon said weakly, which drew out a short burst of laughter from Yoongi. 

"Yeah, yeah. I was scary but really damn good at organizing people and shouting at shits for not keeping track of their money, so I guess it worked. Meant I got to sleep through most of my math classes and nobody gave a shit." she said, offered a gummy smile to Nayeon, which Nayeon returned, shaking her head, carefully with bemusement. The irony of Yoongi's voice rapping about antiestablishmentarianism in her ear, with sharp fury, while being part of the fucking School Council was not lost on her. 

"You're really weird, unnie." Nayeon said, ignoring Yoongi's acid glare, as the track changed over to another one, with haunting ethereal background vocals and Yoongi's pained rapping about the failure of love. It was a surprising balance between love and fury in her songs, and Nayeon was mutely surprised. Had Yoongi been in love, before? 

"The vocalists...?" asked Nayeon, showing Yoongi the song name on the screen of the phone, and Yoongi nodded, easily, as they pushed down, through into the main part of Sinchon. 

"My dongsaengs. One from back home in Daegu, Taehui, and a little hidden gem singing the chorus. Still in middle school, but she lives opposite my house, Jeongmin. They're both damn good." Yoongi said, her chest almost puffing upwards, like a proud mother and Nayeon couldn't help but agree as the chorus kicked in, and their high and low voices contrasted perfectly. 

And then another female rapper kicked in, and Nayeon blinked in surprise. "And the rapper?" 

"Another dongsaeng, J-Hope, though not a literal baby like Jeongmin. Can you believe that was her third time rapping on an official track?" asked Yoongi, and her voice was still pride-filled, but softer now, and there was an unhappy twinge in Nayeon's heart, painful and sudden, Nayeon had to force herself to keep listening to the rapper, instead of skipping ahead to another song. There was undeniable potential for her rapping, in the way she used her voice like it was an instrument, throwing it up and down, affecting different tones and pitches depending on her lyrics. But yet, despite finding another female rapper close to her age, Nayeon's stomach was tying itself up into twinging, writhing knots, because of the way that Yoongi's voice had sounded so soft around the words 'J-Hope', much softer in the pride than it had been for either Jeongmin or Taehui. 

What did that mean? What did all of Yoongi's long looks and careful praise and offhand questions mean, if 'J-Hope' sounded like that, if her lips were softer than they had been for anything else in her repertoire? Nayeon wasn't sure and she hated this sensation of uncertainty, really, even if the pain created the most beautiful music, she still hated it, still hated the way it was. 

"I like them. They part of D-TOWN?" asked Nayeon, careful and perfectly smiling as she forced herself to be polite, the next song one of the crew songs, she could tell by the way it launched into hard shit, instantly, a rough guy's voice 

"Nah, D-TOWN's all way older than me." she said, dryly, with a shake of her head, "Wouldn't want Jeongmin and Taehui anywhere near the underground anyway, they're way too titchy to deal with that sort of shit yet. And Hobi-yah's more of an underground dancer than a rapper. She only really raps for me." she said, and those words sent another annoyed twinge to her stomach, impossible to hide this time. 

"My dongsaeng Jimin's a dancer too." Nayeon said, voice bland, pausing the D-TOWN track that she wasn't really listening to, anymore. "She's good at singing, but no way I'd want her in DNH. My boys are better than everybody else around us, I guess, but she doesn't need to deal with the sort of misogyny that cuts to the core." 

Yoongi nodded, in agreement, as they drew up close to slightly rundown area and walked into the back entrance, rattling up a rickety staircase to the third floor. Nayeon watched as Yoongi fumbled with the keys and let herself in, cursing as she practically broke the door down in her haste to get indoors. "Quick, Nayeon, get in before the door locks or something," she complained, "I hate this shitty place."

Nevertheless, as Nayeon stepped in the crowded studio, with noise cancelling boards lining the walls and covered in junk and musical instruments, it was a place that looked lived in. "Wow." Nayeon said, running her hands across the three old computers that Yoongi had propped up on a sagging table in the middle of the room, "Is this thing older than me?"

Yoongi looked so offended in that moment that Nayeon could almost believe that she'd called her something awful, like a whore or something, with the way her noise crinkled up. "Get out. We can't be friends." Yoongi snapped, sounding only about half-serious, as she reached forward to coax the computers into life. "Don't listen to her, baby, you're beautiful just the way you are."

"One Direction lyrics to serenade your dinosaur?" asked Nayeon, unable to stop the laughter, as she slung her bag into the corner and ran her fingers over the large keyboard propped up against the corner of the room, smiling at how worn the keys were. 

"You come into my house....insult my computer and my word choice...then imply I listen to One Direction?" demanded Yoongi, whirling on Nayeon, but there was a smile tugging at her lips that made them both explode into laughter. 

"Alright, pull up Cubase a sec, I'm going to get changed. I can't focus in this monkey-suit." Yoongi commanded, grabbing a small bag from the side and ducking into the bathroom. The computer was still booting, flashing all sorts of weird colours and Nayeon's fingers trailed over the worn keyboard, where the letters have started to peel away, from the force of fingers against the keys. It was a computer well-used, that was for sure, even if Nayeon had been laughing at first, one that had probably seen a lot of Yoongi. 

....it was probably a sign that she _really needed to chill_ if she was starting to get jealous of a fucking _computer_. She'd never hated her hormones more than in this moment. "Christ, Yeonie." she muttered to herself, as she unbuttoned her own school shirt, until she was only in her tank-top underneath. "Get a grip."

She pulled out her lyrics book (it was frankly a miracle she'd even got that since usually she just scrawled it down wherever she could, but after Jimin had bought her a specific shiny notebook with a magnetic cover, after being fed up of her english notes being covered in rap lyrics, Nayeon had started becoming more organized) and settled herself down at the computer, eyes wandering over the cough drops and stacks of random papers in front of the mini speakers. 

"Hey, Nayeon-ah, pass me that cap over there?" asked Yoongi, re-entering in a Big Bang t-shirt and baggy track-suit bottoms, hair looking a little more messed up. She stopped short at Nayeon and blinked a bit, throat bobbing. "Ahhh, you work out?" 

Nayeon blinked and looked down at her arms, only slightly defined. Not exactly ripped, not yet. "Not really, I only go when my dongsaeng drags me and Hyuk with her. This is just the effect of all of my schoolbooks." she said, with an stupid grin, which made Yoongi smile back at her with amused laughter, collapsing in the chair next to Nayeon and scooting in to tap at the computer and pull up her various composing programmes.

Nayeon really should have been watching or asking questions about it, since it was for her own benefit, but her gaze was drawn down to Yoongi's profile as the elder girl frowned at the computer screen, and drawn to the way her long, slightly bony fingers tapped against the keyboard, the chipped manicure prominent, and drawn to the way her throat extended when she glared at the flickering screen. It was a sort of beautiful that Nayeon wasn't sure she could deal with, the sort of grunge-casual that Nayeon couldn't help but love.

Yoongi turned her head and arched an eyebrow. "You're staring, kiddo." she said, her voice low. 

"I know." Nayeon said, not looking away, even as she was sure her cheeks were heating up. "It's a nice view."

Yoongi paused for a moment, lips pulling upwards into an slightly reluctant twitch, before she turned back towards her screen. "Focus a bit, would you, Nayeon-ah, we have to work on this collaboration." 

Nayeon grinned, faintly, before reluctantly pulling her gaze towards the flickering screen on the old computer, ready to critique and tear apart their ( _their_!!!) collaboration track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The makeup anecdote may or may not be based on me as an eleven year old.... also Yoongi is _so_ much easier to write from her POV than to write about her. Ahh well. Please leave a comment if you liked it, or shout at me on tumblr, @ arysthaeniru!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Severe_ warning for misogynistic and homophobic slurs, please don't take this lightly. Also, this chapter was getting really damn long, so it's going to be four chapters instead of three now, since I'm splitting this up!

Somehow one collaboration track had turned into two, and then four, and then ten, until all in all, they'd managed to write thirteen songs between them in less than a month, and only about eight different studio sessions. Nayeon had always been productive with Donghyuk, her usual co-conspirator, of course; their numerous songs together, recorded on Nayeon's home production equipment was testament to that, but it had _never_ been at this sort of speed and not usually this sort of quality either. Not even once. 

And she'd been worried about losing her inspiration. 

Sure, sometimes her lyrics fell on the side of being just a tad too sappy, especially after long hours spent in staring at the side of Yoongi's concentrated face, as she edited the bridge by adding a few underlying sample moans, but they were _good_ lyrics nonetheless, playing on words and dirty little jokes, while still celebrating her intellect and honouring their struggles. The sort of lyrics that won competitions and sold albums and made endless streaming on Naver possible.

It helped, perhaps that even when they couldn't make it to studio sessions because Nayeon's study sessions, or extra shifts at Yoongi's work, that they kept texting each other ideas for lyrics or snippets for melody and backing tracks they thought would be useful. It wasn't the only thing they texted each other, though, Nayeon liked to keep up a running commentary about mediocre rappers to Yoongi through kkt, when she went to the club without the elder girl, and Yoongi always sent bored selfies at work, whenever she had to deal with particularly stuck-up clients. Her _bitch-you-think_ face always made Nayeon laugh a bit too loud for it to be completely appropriate, but Yoongi was one of those people whom it was surprisingly easy to integrate into her life. 

"Hey," Jimin asked, softly, as Nayeon checked her phone and giggled at the text filled with entirely with sighing emojis, about a customer who couldn't figure out how to change the thermostat. 

Nayeon looked up from her screen and blinked. "You done with the problems already, Jiminie?" she asked, easily. "Better than last time!"

"No, but uhhh, don't you need to be studying too? Aren't your exams in like ten days?" asked Jimin, eyebrow raising. "I mean, Donghyuk-oppa even went as far as hiding over in the other side of the library so he could actually do work and not get distracted by us." she said, gaze focusing on Donghyuk, who seemed to be hitting his head against the side of a social studies book, a pained expression on his features.

"That's not going to make the information go in any faster." Nayeon commented, mildly, "I could have done that for him, no need for him to have moved his lazy ass." He looked up and she waved at him, sarcastically cheerful. His response was to stick up his middle finger at her and drop his head back on his books. 

Jimin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest with an exasperated pout. "You're avoiding the question, unnie, don't think I can't see you doing that. You always do it when you don't want to answer the question. That or say something really stupid."

"Every word that falls out of my mouth is a gem. Nobody else will be able to hear this exact combination at this exact same time and place. You are utterly unique in experiencing this moment, and you ought to feel grateful." Nayeon said, automatically, sending a picture of Donghyuk's endeavours to Yoongi with some bug-eyed laughter emojis. 

"And at the moment, it's just an awful burden~" Jimin said, voice sweet and saccharine, with the scary look in her eyes that always appeared when she thought that people were being intolerable. "Unnie. Stop texting Gloss for five seconds and think about your future."

Nayeon put the phone down and crossed her hands over each other. "One day, the last star in the universe will burn out, giving in to the inevitable calls of entropy, and the last bit of light energy will devolve into heat energy, and the entire universe will slowly cool. And the universe will die, not in an explosion or a huge crunch, but like an old man passing away in the dark." she said, solemnly, which earned her a kick under the table from a pouting Jimin. 

" _Unnie._ " whined Jimin, "Listen to me for like five seconds and take me seriously. Your mom looks like the nicest person in the world, and she'll feed anyone and absolutely loves dogs and that's great and all, and I love her, because she always says nice things about my hair. And then we start talking about education and she turns into a fire-breathing monster, and that's _scary_. If she figures out that you've done a grand total of six hours of studying for entrance exams all month, she might actually kill you. And me too, because I have the misfortune of being your friend, _please_ do some more studying, unnie."

Nayeon exhaled, and smoothed down a few strands of hair escaping from her long ponytail, hiked up high on her head. "It's alright, Jiminie. The worst is over, I already told her that I plan to become a musician and she can't do anything about it if she still wants me to be her daughter." she said, wincing slowly as she remembered the fallout to _that_ particular argument. She'd got her temperament from her mother, both of them with strong opinions and huge words and formal debate training. It meant they loved each other tremendously during the good times, and fought like nobody's business during the bad times.

Jimin laughed, in disbelief, her expression relaxing into an easy smile. "You _said_ that?"

"Remember that month I didn't go anywhere last year?" asked Nayeon, laughing, lowly. "Yeah, it was a disaster. But it had been a long time coming and I felt better having told them that I didn't plan on doing anything other than music."

"Back when you were still doing auditions, right?" asked Jimin, voice soft and gentle, and sometimes Nayeon wished she'd made friends with Jimin before high school, because Jimin always managed to make Nayeon feel at ease, just by speaking. When they were fooling around, especially, but even here, when they were just talking and studying, she felt at ease. 

"Yeah." Nayeon said, voice closing up, nevertheless. "Go on, finish those problems, so I can correct your grammar, practise makes perfect." 

Jimin's eyes narrowed. "Don't think I'm letting you out of answering my question about studying. Don't make Gloss the reason for forgetting your ambitions."

Nayeon could almost feel herself bristle at that comment. "We're writing a mixtape. Almost done too." she blurted out, and regretted it, the moment that Jimin dropped her pen, with a gasp and a little jump in her seat. It wasn't like Yoongi had really ever acknowledged that was what they were doing when they sat there and tweaked tracks they liked, or made lyrics for new tracks altogether. 

"Unnie." Jimin said, sounding betrayed. "You're making an album and you _didn't_ invite me to come and sing for you or even let me listen to a single song? How could you. Are we even friends at this point?" And Jimin had been spending too much time with Jinsol, those words sounded like they came straight from the elder's girls throat, right down to the indignant _'someone extremely important is speaking'_ tone. 

It was good for Jimin to find solace in Jinsol's self-confidence, of course, but Nayeon liked Jimin as Jimin, and not Jimin who was emulating Jinsol. "Soon. We're like close to being done and shit. I think. Maybe." At Jimin's nonplussed look, Nayeon grinned, sheepishly. "Yoongi-unnie just has so many good tracks and I can't help but write my own in response... I think we could probably write like a good thirty more if we just let ourselves keep going at this pace..." 

Jimin tilted her head, curiously, her black-haired fringe falling into her eyes. "That's like...Dynamic Duo worthy. Are you two planning on being a permanent rapper duo, then?" 

It was a good question and one that Nayeon didn't have an answer for. She had to admit, the idea of being a permanent sub-duo with Yoongi made her feel extremely warm inside. Still, there was a reason why duos were stable best friends who'd been together since forever, and weren't typically romantic relationships. It made more sense for her to continue to pursue her partnership with Donghyuk who'd known her since they were five years old and hadn't left her side yet. But still....there was no denying that her bleeding heart _wanted_ to. 

She was really obvious. "Get back to your problems, there's only about five minutes before the free period is over and you have to go to club activities, Jiminie." Nayeon said, firmly, "I know you can finish before then."

And okay, she was _definitely_ avoiding the question, but she didn't really want to think about anything. Sure, the prospect of actually being able to kiss Min Yoongi whenever the urge took her seemed incredibly addicting and amazing, but music and love never mixed well. There had been no famous musician duo-couples who'd ever lasted, and Nayeon wasn't arrogant enough to think that she would be the first. It was easier like this, to keep her inspiration, produce some of the best fucking music ever and stay easy, simple friends with Yoongi. 

Seriously. 

If only Yoongi would stop making that resolve harder than it needed to be. 

Like when she would randomly bring Nayeon food, after a long day at school without lunch-money and deny having actually gone out and bought it for Nayeon, because _'it was just lying around'_. Or when she randomly texted Nayeon whenever Nayeon was really starting to feel down about this particular thesis she was writing for a class, with new song lyrics that were actually genius, and didn't seem to think it was a big deal. Or when she would accidentally start gushing about Kumamon-sunbae-nim and the time she'd met him at a themepark, complete with creative invective that was perhaps inappropriate when used in tandem with a stuffed animal, until she realized just how hard Nayeon was laughing and subsided, with an adorable, embarrassed, gummy smile. 

It was like Yoongi was insisting, at the top of her voice, that Nayeon's crush turn into something more full-fledged and painful, the sort of things that real love songs were written about. There was enough pain lodged into her heart already, which gouged out its own due, during those late nights after recording and studying sessions, hair spread messily across her pillow as she stared up at the ceiling of her dark room, still covered in glow-in-the-dark stars from her astronomy phase. Pain from her bad decisions, pain from the things she couldn't help, and pain from the stupidly hurtful comments that she just couldn't keep back sometimes. She didn't need the painful realization of the fact that she was probably pining after an even worse relationship than the barely-existent one with Zinger. 

Sometimes Nayeon cursed herself. Cursed her inability to control her thirst, her penchant for falling in love with the first charismatic female rapper than crossed her path, cursed every aspect about being a lesbian in a world where she was regarded with suspicion, like she was a fucking obscenity on TV. If they were just friends, if she was just friends, everything would be easier. 

But the thing was…she was proud. She was proud and open and completely accepting of her status as a lesbian. Everyone knew, and that was because Nayeon didn’t care, and thought that the status quo should be different. It was why she wrote songs, it was why she stood on that stage: because it was the way to make the most change while still feeling alive and confident in herself. Her heart wasn’t wrong for falling love with amazing people like Zinger and Yoongi. She just wished her head was less of a coward about it, less afraid of screwing everything up and inevitably deteriorating things because of said fear.

-

It was a bad writing day, and they both knew it. The problem with creativity was that it never lasted for very long, and when someone came to a barren well, that the previous day had been brimming at the sides, there was never any emotion but sheer frustration and annoyance. But at least an empty well could be blamed on outer forces. The lack of inspiration was entirely on their mental states, and that was probably the worst part of having writer's block. 

At least their bad writing days had the decency to match up. 

“Stop tweaking it, unnie.” Nayeon said, firmly from across the room, as she struggled with the wires of the speaker, which had come loose. She wasn’t sure why Yoongi had asked her to go and fiddle with them, considering Yoongi was the one with the magical ability to fix anything she touched and Nayeon was known as Queen of Destruction, but Nayeon suspected it was because the elder girl was too comfortable in her chair to move anywhere else. Also maybe because she wanted to make more edits, even after Nayeon had told her it sounded just fine. Good thing Nayeon had a sixth sense for this sort of stuff.

“One more layer.” Yoongi wheedled, absently, as she played out another melody on the keyboard and Nayeon exhaled as she turned around to stare at Yoongi, with absolute exasperation. 

“Unnie, are you an idol group producer or something? Simple is better. Our voices are the highlight here, not the backing track.” Nayeon said, voice slow as she watched Yoongi’s deft fingers dance against the keyboard, with an improvisational skill she claimed to not have. 

“You can safely highlight both of them without problems, I told you that when we were writing School of Tears.” Yoongi said, not even turning around to acknowledge Nayeon, as she continued tweaking something on the synth. There was a stubborn set to Yoongi's jaw that Nayeon didn't like, the sort of stubborn set that set her teeth on edge.

"I don't want to add anything to the songs today, not when we're like this." Nayeon said, carefully, instead of a sniped comment about how School of Tears wasn't even their own music track in the first place. Yoongi didn't reply, still twisting buttons on the synthesizer, completely focused on her task. Nayeon twitched a little, and almost twisted the cords out of the speaker altogether with annoyance, she really didn't like repeating herself or being ignored. 

"I don't want to add stuff to the songs today. Not when we're like this." Nayeon said, slowly and loudly, wondering exactly how loudly Yoongi was playing the new backing track if she couldn't hear what Nayeon was saying. 

"I heard you the first goddamn time!" snapped Yoongi, ripping off her headphones, face pulled up into a fierce snarl. "The fuck do you have against decent backing tracks, anyway?"

And okay, Nayeon was more than a bit annoyed that Yoongi's first response to a perfectly reasonable cooling down technique was to bite out accusations about her music taste (which was perfectly intact, thank you very much) but she couldn't help but stare at the way Yoongi's entire essence grew sharper when she was actually pissed. It wasn't attractive like guys always said it was, and the elder rapper was sort of scary when angry, honestly, but it was interesting. A different sort of passion filling up her short body to usual, a sort of annoyingly stubborn passion. "The fact we don't need them?" countered Nayeon, voice slightly shaky as she tried to stop her emotions ruining her typical demeanour and opinions. "We're more than able to create good things without worrying about extra melodies. Your voice and my voice don't need extra shit drowning it out. Why do you feel the need to obsess over these things anyway? This shit is _good_ unnie, we're good." 

Yoongi lifted an eyebrow. "Your last set of lyrics was literally about how you want to keep striving for better because you never believe what you write is good enough, Yeon-ah, don't shit with me. Also my backing tracks are not fucking _shit_ , shut the fuck up."

Okay, Nayeon definitely felt the urge to slap rising up in her. Chill. Chill. DNH always got vaguely terrified whenever Nayeon got like this. She could do chill. Think about puppies, Jimin's cute dance whenever she got higher than a 70 on her english tests, the perfect high score on Love Live, the way that Yoongi had a perfect gummy smile during late night producing sessions. Okay. Calm. Peace. Victory. No slapping. 

"Follow what I say, not what I do." Nayeon said, solemnly, in english, as she abandoned the speakers as a lost cause (she'd bring her own over tomorrow to replace them) to lean over Yoongi, hands resting as gently as possible on Yoongi's shoulders, trying to not freak out over the physical contact that Yoongi didn't shy away from. Yoongi gave her an unimpressed look, ready to snap and Nayeon pulled her hands away, carefully, as Yoongi watched. 

"I understand the strive to be better...like a lot, but I honestly think we're good. Adding more would clutter it." Nayeon said, quietly, looking down at her fingers, and the uneven cuticles and the bitten-down fingernails with anxiety. "If you'd like, we can get a third opinion in Donghyuk or something, but I think it's already as close to perfect as we can reach currently." 

"Yes, because your idiot friend who can't even pass the fucking NUAT is the best second opinion we need." Yoongi sneered, turning back to the screen and Nayeon saw red, for a moment, hot and painful in the centre of her chest. Because okay, Donghyuk could be a little dumb sometimes, but he was a damn good musician and anyone who said otherwise was just plain _wrong_.

"Unnie. Please take that back right now, or I don't think I can keep working here." Nayeon said, tightly, fists balling up in her lap. "I don't want to stop our streak because of a stupid fight."

Yoongi's lip jutted out, adorable and stubborn and annoyingly attractive, when Nayeon was feeling a pulsing anger flit through her veins. "God, I can't think straight when you're hovering around me like this." she said, and her voice was tight and Nayeon could feel pulsings of frustration everywhere and god. _God_. If Yoongi couldn't even stand her presence, what chance did they even have? It was better to just give up. 

Nayeon grabbed her backpack and blinked ferociously, as the swelling feeling in the centre of her chest expanded, pushing out all feelings of anything except sadness and annoyance and pain. She could feel a headache coming on from the base of her skull and she hated it. "Alright unnie. I'll head out. See you later, I guess. Don't change shit, okay? Let's just do this later." Nayeon said, voice hoarse and coarse and frustrated, as she shrugged on her jacket.

There was a sound of crackling as the synthesizer buzzed, annoyingly, and for a moment, Nayeon almost turned around to make sure that Yoongi hadn't destroyed anything. But then, she realized that she just wanted to get _out_ , because she needed air, and didn't really care what Yoongi had done to her own equipment, so when she opened the door, eyes starting to sting a little, the last thing she expected was to see a young girl, clearly just about to knock. 

She was fairly short, hair braided messily and sports clothing on, despite the heavy backpack over her back indicating studiousness. "Uh..." Nayeon said, eloquently and the girl looked equally confused. 

"Did I get the wrong place....? Is this not Yoongi-unnie's place?" asked the girl, gaze not pulling away from Nayeon's stinging eyes and shaking hands, and despite how annoyed she felt about that gaze, Nayeon immediately noted how sweet and melodious her voice sounded. 

"No, it's Yoongi-unnie's place." Nayeon said, slowly, to try and control the vocal modulations and stop herself from crying. "Yeah."

"Oh. Okay." said the girl nodding, slowly and the atmosphere was awkward, and despite her shoulders hunching in, and her posture showing how incredibly shy she was about this, she licked her lips nervously as if she was about to speak. "Umm, are you alright?" she asked her voice so quiet that Nayeon could only just hear the words. 

Nayeon smiled, a little self-consciously and pressed her hand to her eyes, trying to act surprised by her tears. "Oh! Oh yeah. I'm good. I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm just gonna...." She made some gestures towards the door, with a wan smile. 

"If it's unnie's fault--" The girl said, loudly, surprising Nayeon with her volume. Nayeon whirled around and the younger girl looked extremely embarrassed, a flush rising up the tops of her round, chubby cheeks. "If it's unnie's fault," she started again, more quietly, "She probably didn't mean it. She's...not that good with people. Like me. That's why we get along. But uh.... yeah, she doesn't mean it, so you shouldn't take it to heart." 

Nayeon couldn't help but smile back at the younger girl, bowing her head, politely. She was cute. Really cute. A lot like Nayeon's younger sibling, when she wasn't insulting Nayeon and giving her a hard time about her hair. And even though she'd known that what the younger girl had said was true, already, having the other girl confirm it made her feel better. She knew that Yoongi probably wouldn't ever like her that way. But. It was nice to know at least their friendship would probably not be messed up too much by this. That was enough. "I won't." Nayeon said, softly, "It was just a misunderstanding. Harsh words. Both of our faults."

The younger girl, smiled, and it was a small bunny-tooth grin that made her look immensely adorable. "But more Yoongi-unnie's fault, right?" she asked, voice a little more normal this time, and Nayeon couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tears fade away slowly, at the cute conversation.

"Definitely more Yoongi-unnie's fault. But don't tell her I said that, she's mad enough already." Nayeon said, with a light wink, which made the other girl laugh again, a sweet tone to her voice that sounded extremely familiar, like she'd heard it before. Nayeon rolled her tongue around the inside of the mouth, trying to remember where she'd heard the voice, before it hit her, like a bolt of lightning. "Hey, are you by any chance Jeongmin or Taehui?"

"Jeon Jeongmin, yeah." said the younger girl, eyes widening, with curiosity, her hands coming up to adjust the straps on her back. "How did you know?"

"Voice like that? Really distinctive. You're very talented." said Nayeon with a warm smile, happy to realize she was right. Middle schooler, no wonder she was so short and cute. "You'll go far, I'm sure, especially if Yoongi-unnie's helping you with producing tracks."

Jeongmin's eyes widened, before she grinned, a mixture between shy and happy. "Thanks. But the day that unnie helps me without me begging for ages beforehand, is the day that hell freezes over. She hates sharing her studio with people."

Nayeon felt her eyebrows furrow. That couldn't be right, Nayeon had spent almost a whole month here, and Yoongi hadn't had a single protest until today, when they'd both been annoyed and had snapped at each other like dogs. But Jeongmin seemed rather convinced by her own words, a deep set to her mouth which made her look more mature than her face indicated. "Well, if you ever want someone to produce for you, holler my way? I'd be happy to work with a talent like you. You don't hear voices like yours every day on the street. I'm Kim Nayeon, otherwise known as Rap Goddess, unnie has my number."

Jeongmin looked awed for a moment, jaw dropping wide, as she straightened up completely, in shock. "Wait, seriously, _you're_ Rap Goddess? I love your music!" said Jeongmin, grinning widely, a sudden change coming over her face, entirely. She looked a mixture between impressed, excited and extremely shy, but excited seemed to win out over everything. "I listened to Classless Bastards, that's my absolute favourite." 

For a moment, Nayeon felt briefly guilty, because she was rather sure that Classless Bastards was not a track meant for young ears, not with how much she'd sworn during the track and how many sex references she and Donghyuk had managed to cram in there, but she pushed it aside. Having a fan was extremely nice, especially such a cute one. "Oh yeah? What'd you like about it?" asked Nayeon, leaning back against the wall, accepting that she wasn't leaving just yet. 

"Everything. But the beat was neat, I really like the swirling beats. You were way more on point than Supreme Boi was though, he sort of fucked up at the end." said Jeongmin, seriously, her eyes shining like someone who clearly listened to a lot of hip-hop. "Like, with the flow? It didn't suit."

"I told him that, but he didn't listen to me." Nayeon said, with a low grin. "You need faster beats, but he likes rapping a bit slower, like Drake. It still sounded good though, right?"

"It's my fave for a reason, unnie. But that's because you save it." Jeongmin said, a grin spreading across her face, a grin that Nayeon couldn't help but mimic. "That's so cool. I didn't know that Yoongi-unnie knew a _celebrity_."

"Are you done fangirling yet? You have homework and shit to finish." Yoongi interrupted, leaning out of the door to her open studio apartment, an annoyed look on her face, and a cigarette stick in her mouth, unlit. She was pointedly not looking in Nayeon's direction and Nayeon looked down, so she didn't have to look at Yoongi either, even if she thought her face was most beautiful like this. "Your mum almost murdered me the last time you didn't finish your homework in time. And you're still going to bed at ten, don't think you can get out of that." 

"...can we get chicken this time?" asked Jeongmin, looking between them, her eyes sort of shifty. She looked like she was in the verge of saying something but Nayeon met her gaze and shook her head, imperceptibly. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I won't tell your mum you're eating junk food on a weekday. Come on, get in." Yoongi said, ushering Jeongmin into her studio apartment. Nayeon pushed off the wall and started to move away, when it looked clear that nothing was going to happen, no apologies or even vaguely reassuring words were going to come her way. She wasn't in the mood for this, anyway.

"Nayeon-ah!" called Yoongi from behind her, as Nayeon started to clatter down the stairs. Nayeon turned, surprised, to stare at Yoongi, whose hands were curled around the ends of her jacket, thumbs tugging at the worn fabric, as she stood on the edge of her doorway, her bare feet peeking out out from her too large sweats. "Thursday?"

Nayeon paused a moment, exhaled and nodded. Three days seemed enough to get less annoyed, for both of them. "Yeah. Yeah, alright. See you unnie." 

When Nayeon collapsed back in her chair at home, morosely swinging around in her swivel chair, there was a text from Yoongi on her phone, reading simply, _don't forget to eat_. It was small, but it still made Nayeon smile a little, as she replied with a happy emoji, and got done to work on her schoolwork.

(X)

"Okay, okay but if we're making this a mixtape, you know, we need better planning for logistics. What the fuck are your plans?" Yoongi said, earphones half-on, half-off, as she scribbled something down on her lyrics pad. Somehow, Thursday had come, and Nayeon felt just at ease, coming back to Yoongi's studio, despite minimal contact through text. Somehow, with Nayeon bringing a pot of sweet and sour chicken as a peace offering and Yoongi having already brainstormed up a minimal, angsty track for Nayeon to add to, they'd made their amends and solved their differences

It had been surprisingly easy and made Nayeon a little frustrated about how easy it had been to fight. A part of her was still extremely annoyed by the fact they'd fought at all, especially over something so trivial, something that had managed to get solved with a bit of compromise and edging, but mused that it was probably a miracle she'd never fought with Yoongi before. It wasn't like she didn't constantly have to snipe at DNH for saying things that were off point.

It just....didn't feel right to fight with Yoongi though. Perhaps because they weren't close enough for it to be comfortable yet. Nayeon tugged through the tangled ends of her hair, with a slight frown on her face. "What do you mean? Let's just stick them up online."

Yoongi scoffed, moving away a pack of cigarettes away from the centre of the table. "Your crew leader deals with putting out the songs, doesn't he." she said, and it was clearly a rhetorical question, so Nayeon waited as Yoongi opened up the start window. "So, we have to decide which streaming sites to upload the songs to, do they need fees and verification? Then post-production mastering, so the quality for the physical and online version match their respective tracks. Are we making physical copies or not? And then album art and potential printing fees and then find a way to promote it, because god knows we didn't put in all of this time and effort and money for it to flop." Yoongi said, listing out of the things out, typing out the checklist as she talked, on a small word document. 

Nayeon whistled, lowly and grinned, sheepishly. Okay, she definitely hadn't handled much of this before, working more on the musical side of things, leaving logistics to Ikje and Taegyun, as their DJs and senior citizens of the rap crews. "Let's stick them up on MelOn and SoundCloud, they're free, and I actually know how to use them. iTunes?"

"Money. Like 12,000 won. We willing to fork it over?" asked Yoongi, tapping in their options, instantly. Sometimes, Nayeon forgot that being the treasurer would instill qualities like this, and it always managed to impress her, the multitasking and the instant writing. 

"I dunno, but I can probably afford to put my money on that if I don't drink for a while, or something, sure." Nayeon said, easily. "But dunno if I have the money for physical albums, we should just sticking with strea--"

She broke off as a loud knock interrupted their conversation. Yoongi groaned, but pushed her way out of her chair and traipsed over to the door, her hoodie bunching up over her hands. She opened the door, and let it swing open at the sight of Jeongmin at the door, backpack over her shoulders, looking a bit tired.

"Sorry unnie. Mum got called away somewhere quickly, she asked if you can let me be here? She said she'd give you the money tomorrow..." Jeongmin said, trailing off when she noticed Nayeon inside. 

"Of course, get in here kiddo." Yoongi said, dismissively, shuffling back to her chair and flopping down in it. "And tell your mum she's doesn't need to pay me. I only need money for the food you eat, and she already paid more than enough last time." she added, craning her neck around, as Jeongmin flopped down on the couch, shrugging off her backpack and pulling out a Nintendo DS. 

"You're not exactly living in luxury, unnie. Mum wants to pay you, let her." Jeongmin said, her voice bored, as she booted up the DS.

"Your mum works more than I do to keep you two clothed and fed. I'm not removing a won more from her than I need to." Yoongi snapped back at Jeongmin on the couch. "Go do your homework, kiddo."

Jeongmin looked a mixture between scandalized and annoyed as she flipped the nintendo shut dramatically. Nayeon chuckled and turned back to the mixtape planning, scrolling down a little more. "Say we did want to print the mixtape, though, what sort of money are we talking for like fifty copies?" asked Nayeon, curiously. 

Yoongi pulled a face, tapping her fingers across the top of the computer's humming insides. "More than I can afford without taking a loan. And I don't want to do that. Even if it's good for my credit score and shit, I guess, don't want to risk being unable to pay it back. Don't think you'd be able to fork it over either." 

"But how much?" pressed Nayeon, thinking about her own credit card and her money saved up from her winnings at the club. Her family were hardly poor, after all, and about fifty CDs seemed like a good start. 

"It's usually about 2100 won for printing just the CD with a picture, then add another 3500won for a full colour cover and decently sturdy case...and multiply by 50...." Yoongi said, pulling up something on her phone, "And then that's not even taking into account the need for a graphic designer, their services are expensive as fuck, and unless you're hiding some bomb art skills or something, that itself will make a serious dent in our budget."

Nayeon exhaled, heavily and ruffled her hair. Jimin was pretty good at art, but she'd only ever seen Jimin work in traditional art forms, like a sketchbook or watercolour paintings. For something like this, they'd need a legit graphic designer, and that would require a little more than money, it would need someone who understood how to visually represent an album. As much as she hated it, packaging and marketing of things were everything, and finding an appropriate cover art for their CD was crucial.

Jeongmin coughed, slowly, ducking her head shyly when Nayeon looked her way. "I could do it? I have some digital editing software and I'm pretty good at art. And K-ARTs lets anyone use their computer lab, so I can use their tablets and stuff..." 

Yoongi laughed. "Come back later when you've eaten more bowls of rice, kiddo." Her words were sharp, but her voice was fond.

"You've done something like this before?" asked Nayeon, curiously, ignoring the _look_ that Yoongi gave her, that probably said something about how Nayeon was challenging her authority. 

Jeongmin grinned, looking really bright to be noticed. "Designed the new logo for our school last year and I won." There was a prideful tilt to her neck as she winked at Nayeon and Nayeon nodded, contemplatively. Despite the silliness, it was actually a fairly good portfolio experience for an amateur. If someone designed a logo, it meant they were able to display the essence of a particular subject and express it in a cool way. The sort of talent needed to design a mixtape or album cover. 

"Well, you're here already. Grab your headphones and plug in, see if you get any ideas from listening to the tracks." Nayeon said, easily, and Jeongmin scrambled up instantly, dropping the DS to the couch as she practically plopped herself on Yoongi's lap. Yoongi glared down at both Nayeon and Jeongmin, but Jeongmin had already grabbed Yoongi's pencil, a piece of paper and an eraser, and had pulled up their folder of songs, to get drawing. 

"Hey." Yoongi said, a frown on her face as she turned to look at Nayeon, who'd turned back to the list of things they needed to do for their mxtape, "She's just a kid."

"She listens to Classless Bitch, it's hardly like she's innocent." Nayeon protested, as Jeongmin grinned, and bobbed her head appreciatively to the beat of the song, sketching something lightly on the paper. 

"It's not that, I just don't like taking advantage of free child labour." Yoongi said, harshly, tightening her grip on Jeongmin's waist, when it seemed like the younger girl was about to topple off Yoongi's knees. 

"It's not free. You babysit and let me eat fast food when I'm here, and I'll do the mixtape for you." Jeongmin said, easily, tongue sticking out of her mouth absently as she drew, "Maybe do my math homework too? I really have no clue what's going on in algebra." 

Yoongi exhaled, and there was a fond expression as she whacked Jeongmin's arm. "Brat. I'll _help_ you with your homework, how's that?" 

Jeongmin nodded, as the intro track of Yoongi's fierce rapping faded out and launched into their first duo song, a slow but angry beat about the treatment of working women in society. "What are you calling the album, by the way?" she asked, her fingers still against the pencil. 

Nayeon exchanged looks with Yoongi, and Yoongi made a small motion with her shoulders, barely a shrug, a slightly nonplussed look on her soft features. Nayeon was similarly clueless and Jeongmin seemed to notice that, with a small giggle and a shy gin that showed off her prominent front teeth. "Well, let me suggest something?"

"Shoot." Yoongi said, voice resigned, slumping back against the chair. 

"Afraid of Reality." Jeongmin offered, not looking up from her drawing of what looked like a butterfly, perched on something sharp and spiky looking. "Because I can sort of. Already hear it. From this. And from Yoongi-unnie's intro track."

It felt silly perhaps, to be constantly looking at Yoongi for this, for reassurance, but this album was both of theirs, their child, so to speak, and to take any decisions without her input would be folly. Still, it was perhaps a little too comforting to look into her lidded, sharp eyes, and see the same emotion reflected back.

"It's perfect, Jeongmin-sshi." Nayeon said, with a small smile, knowing that Yoongi was in perfect agreement with her, for once. 

-

 **Gloss Goddess, 04:34**  
hey, quick question  
remember my dongsaeng Huiseon?

 **Me, 07:15**  
Yeap  
any reason? 

**Gloss Goddess, 11:35**  
she's in the area for an audition  
want to meet her tomorrow?  
think you'd like her  
you're always talking about how there aren't enough female rappers

 **Me, 12:31**  
Sure. At the club?

 **Gloss Goddess, 12:37**  
yeah, usual spot  
btw, jeongmin finished the art up this morning sent me it  
[image attached - 5.86MB]  
what do you think?

 **Me, 12:38**  
Shit. That's amazing. She's a really good artist. I'll send her a text telling her so.

 **Gloss Goddess, 12:38**  
she'd love that  
thinks the sun shines out of your asshole

 **Me, 12:39**  
Jealous, unnie?

 **Gloss Goddess, 12:42**  
you wish  
i also finished mastering the last of the songs this morning  
want me to send you over the last files?

 **Me, 12:45**  
....this is like subtle hinting that you want us to release the mixtape soon right

 **Me, 12:57**  
you're not smooth unnie  
I hope you know that  
have to go back to class  
but let's go over it today at your place and post it online tonight  
might as well right?

 **Gloss Goddess, 1:34**  
don't be late, asshole

-

Nayeon's fingers twitched, as she shoved open the back door to the Dragon's Kiss, nodding briefly towards the bouncer as he pushed in. It was relatively full, as it was on Saturdays, but since the night was young, it had not yet reached the seams-bursting sort of full which made both Nayeon and Yoongi very uncomfortable. Weaving her way around the half-drunken dancers, Nayeon nodded towards a few familiar rappers she saw, lounging on the sides, messing around with lyrics or joints of weed. 

Her usual table was empty, and the surrounding area was empty of Yoongi and Huiseon, so Nayeon supposed she was just early. The thought both bolstered her and depressed her. Honestly. Why had she said yes to Yoongi asking her to meet Huiseon? She'd heard _more_ than enough about J-Hope, more than her jealous heart had ever needed to know, and now she had to play nice and be polite for a whole night? Still, the thoughts of her mixtape already being out on the internet and getting some good views were enough to calm her nerves and make her dump her coat and her purse over one of the chairs there. 

The worst part was that Nayeon _liked_ Huiseon's voice and style of rap, it was the sort of voice that had potential and had she met Huiseon before she'd met Yoongi, she was sure there would have been no problems at all. But as it was, Nayeon's heart involuntarily clutched, every time that Yoongi mentioned her name and practically sparkled with happiness. And she hated that this was her involuntary reaction, hated that she was so ruled by her emotions, hated that she was jealous over somebody he barely knew like an idiot. Maybe getting to know Huiseon would make this easier, make her feel less like an asshole. 

...who was she kidding?

Avoiding her sense of responsibility sounded best, so, Nayeon headed straight over to the bar, where Ikje was mixing together some neon green concoction that had almost certainly been requested by a crazy teenager. "Yo oppa, can you get me a Corkscrew?" asked Nayeon, as she hopped up on the barstool. Admittedly, she was supposed to be saving money for the physical release of their mixtape, which they were planning to print and distribute by Wednesday of next week, but she was sure that a couple of drinks to keep her buzzed and keep her confidence high wasn’t going to do anything. 

Ikje looked up, and grinned at her. "Yo Nayeon, just the girl I'd been looking for." Nayeon immediately frowned and glared at him, suspiciously. Ikje loved to complain about being stuck with a bunch of kids younger than him. He rarely welcomed their appearance like this, which meant that something was up. "Hey, you in the mood to take someone down?"

"I just wanted a drink, honestly..." Nayeon said, suspiciously and Ikje exhaled as he slid the green drinks down to the bunch of guys and girls, dressed up to go properly clubbing. Nayeon wanted to tell them that they were at the wrong sort of place for that, but then again, management loved these sorts of customers, since they were much better at paying for their drinks than the rappers were, so Nayeon had no right to ay anything, as much as their presence often annoyed her. 

"Ignore the fact that's it's a request from me. You have the inspiration to be able to take down somebody?" He demanded again, leaning forward, his voice lowering. 

With a wary exhale, Nayeon nodded. The week had been hard and she was on edge, and filled with inspiration. Insulting someone well and competing on stage might even bring down her nerves. "Yeah, I guess I'm up do it. But why don't you just do it? Did they manage to beat you too, hyung?"

Ikje chuckled, darkly, leaning back to grab more alcohol, as another gang of slightly older looking guys advanced on the bar. "No, he didn't beat me. But trust me, you'll want to fight him."

That wasn’t the tone of voice that came around when someone really good showed up. That wasn’t the tone of admiration he'd had for Gloss's promise, this was the tone of grim darkness which meant someone's ego had to be destroyed. Nayeon exhaled and cracked her neck a little.

"Okay oppa. Can I get that Corkscrew right now?" she asked, but Ikje just walked away to serve the latest customers, completely ignoring her, with a smug grin on his face. Nayeon contemplated jumping over the dratted table and just grabbing a bottle of soju herself, but she also was sure that people wouldn't realize that she and Ikje were friends, and would definitely see it as her making trouble. She didn't particularly feel in the mood for fights with actual consequences, so dismissed the idea as soon as it came. She'd just have to duel without the usual buzz of confidence that alcohol gave her. With a light exhale of exasperation, Nayeon dragged herself upwards and weaved through the crowd, to duck into the backstage. 

A couple of familiar rappers hung around the back, waiting for their turn. Minhyuk, who was adjusting his collar grinned up at her. "Hey." he greeted, cheerily, reaching up to fistbump her. 

She returned it, enthusiastically. "Hiya sunbae." she greeted, leaning back against one of the walls, to rest her huge boots against, "Haven't seen you around for a while."

"Just graduated college." Minhyuk said, with a light laugh. "Final year thesis takes up way too much time, but hey, at least I have a guaranteed job now. They want me as a side-character in that new drama that came out recently." 

Nayeon clapped, only half-convincingly, but it was enough for Minhyuk who beamed. "That's great, sunbae." she said, with a soft grin across her face. "I'll make sure to tune in." That was a lie, but she could wikipedia the episode summaries so she could lie convincingly to him. She didn't have time to do anything but study and write music and occasionally visit her friends, but supporting friends about their ambition was important, it was the sort of support that brought about future genii, the sort of community morals that should have been a staple in school, but somehow got forgotten among the calls of 'treat others like you would wish to be treated' and 'no lying or cheating'. 

"How's Rap Goddess doing? Heard that you've been sweeping the competition so far." Minhyuk murmured, voice amused, as he started to fiddle with his rings, as another rapper was called out. 

"Something like that." Nayeon said, politely, with a nod and a quick smile, and was about to maybe ask him to hook up with Jinsol, because otherwise, the elder girl would never forgive her for ruining a potential connection, when a loud obnoxious voice sounded from behind her. 

"Oh, did you get lost backstage? This is only for the rappers." asked the guy, leaning towards her, with a bemused grin, that just managed to make him look a little creepy. "Maybe I could help you make your way back--" His hands came towards her elbow and Nayeon slapped it away, before he could even get close.

"I'm not lost." she said, coolly, and she knew without a doubt, by how he recoiled and gave her a vicious glare instead of apologizing for his misunderstanding, that this had to be the person that Ikje had wanted her to fight. She would have to thank him later, he was one of the only people who understood exactly how much she liked to pull down obnoxious people. 

"You're rapping? Well, if we end up facing off, I'll take it easy on you." he said, raising his eyebrows and Nayeon could feel her blood boiling.

"If you take it easy on me or not, you'll still be the one who loses." Nayeon said, tersely. "Do you mind? We were having a conversation, before you so rudely interrupted." She turned her back on him, pushing herself off the wall, so she could face Minhyuk properly. "Anyway, you remember Hyosang-oppa? His girlfriend, Jinsol-unnie would absolutely murder me if I didn't get your number, because she's trying to break into the acting world as well, do you mind if I give you her--"

"Don't tell me you're Rap Goddess?" demanded the man behind her and Nayeon bit down on her lip, with exasperation. Minhyuk snorted lowly, and smoothed a hand over her shoulder, gently.

"What's it to you?" asked Minhyuk, on her behalf. Nayeon was a mix between flattered and annoyed. After all, it was _her_ fight, but she knew that Minhyuk, at least, meant well. 

"Heh. I'll beat you on the stage. See you there, bitch." said the man, turning off, to take his place, as a defeated Zelo trailed off the stage, worrying his bottom lip with annoyance. Minhyuk bristled next to her, but Nayeon just blinked, unphazed.

"Are you going now?" asked Minhyuk, coolly, as they saw the rude rapper pick up the mic and wait for his opponent. Nayeon shrugged, as she watched him bounce around the stage. He did seem to know his rhythm which meant he was marginally better than a lot of relatively unknown challengers that came to Dragon's Kiss. 

"Might wait a bit. Let him get cocky and then destroy all of his ego in one shot. That sort of thing." Nayeon said, shoving her hands into her pockets, as she stared down at her leather boots. "I really want a drink though, haven't rapped spontaneously for a while, this month and Ikje won't feed me any alcohol until I win." 

Minhyuk laughed, bitterly. "Well, if you're not going yet, I will. Nobody speaks to women like that."

Nayeon was about to protest about how the point was that he wasn't supposed to talk to _anyone_ like they were lesser than him or using derogatory language, but Minhyuk had already strode out onto the stage, to replace Jungdapp. Nayeon exhaled, and leant back to watch, eyes pointed and clear. 

The problem was, she mused, that whomever this guy was, he was actually fairly good. He wasn't like most cocky new rappers who were all bark and no bite. The guy clearly knew his way around the flow and the style of diss raps, knowing exactly how to cut into his opponents in the best way to hurt them. It was like a game of 'Of Course' that he was playing here, how many hits could you give and take before your pride caved in and couldn't allow you to stand on the stage anymore? It spoke of an experienced rapper from somewhere else in the country (his slight satoori coming out indicated somewhere from Gangwon-do) and Nayeon felt a little wary, especially with how quickly he managed to dispatch a shaken Minhyuk. 

The thing was. Nayeon had been insulted and put down so many times, that she was quite sure that she had no pride left, She wasn't like most of the men here. Her pride was nothing in the end, all that mattered was her skill. In this, she knew, she could win. So. after a few more challengers went forward and lost, Nayeon kicked herself off the back wall and pressed forward onto the stage. 

Taegyun, who was mediating as ever, shot her a grin of amusement. "And here comes Rap Goddess, reigning champion of the Dragon's Kiss." he called, before handing her the mic, with a whispered, _'beat his ass'_.

She inclined her hand towards him. "Assholes first." she murmured, easily, grinning as he gritted his teeth in frustration. Taegyun pushed put the light fast beats that Nayeon loved to use, and she grinned to herself. Home territory. Still, the guy's words were harsh and fierce, immediately cutting in to her height, her frigid nature and her big nose, and there was a hiss from the crowd who were watching. They had stopped dancing, like they usually did when rappers were going in, just watching with interest. Nayeon didn't blame them, hard-core diss tracks weren't exactly stuff that was easy to dance to, especially not with a beat like this. 

Nayeon didn't let it phaze her though, there had been worse screamed at her from across the streets by drunken men, on the nights she walked home alone. Instead, she launched straight in, using her usual wordplay to call him out for acting like a child on the playground, tugging at pigtails, unable to find any flaws in her except her appearance, finishing with, "I ain't here to look pretty and be a doll, i'm here to throw a curveball, in this world of rap where there's no style, I'm the only rapper here who has any gall, wassup!" 

She felt vindicated to hear slightly more enthusiastic cheers from the people in the crowd, it was always nice to be a crowd favourite and on home territory. 

Still, the guy didn't look satisfied with that, immediately launching forward. "Any old bitch can stand on stage and spit a couple of rhyme lyrics, but how did you even get up here, with that pathetic wordplay? Spread a few legs for somebody important, that's all whores are good for in the end, So called master of the flow, but you're tripping all over the stage, the only curving you're doing is in the direction of the most influential guy." And wow, okay, Nayeon could feel her blood start to boil, but she didn't let her face of derision change. She wasn't going to let him know he'd gotten to her with remarks like that. "Is it plagiarism I wonder, or is just that you sound the same as any other seoulite slut with a cold heart and an inability to shut up? That's all you are, just a fuck-up." 

Nayeon could hear some indignant cries in the crowd, but she just lifted her hand for silence, smirking despite her blood rate increasing, slowly. "Those converse high you wear to hide your skating knees are so pathetic, I don't need converse, I'm already an allstar. You've plastered on so much cologne that the audience at the back of the room are choking! It's because you're sweating like a pig filled with fear at the prospect of the slaughtering block, right? But I don't need Hugo, because I'm already Boss. That flow of yours that you've wasted on pointless lyrics, you might as well just leave it at the door. Is that the best you can do, insult me for being a girl who won't have sex with you? Your lack of creativity is stifling, you wouldn't last on this stage for very long, no pro can live when they're as generic as rice-cakes. Sit your fucktoy ass down before you challenge a goddess so recklessly." 

It was perhaps a little long, but she didn't care. That was, perhaps, some of the fastest lyrics she'd spat in a while, and it felt good to have the blood thundering in her veins, the heady rush of stripping someone down to their faults and nothing else. A mindless anger and anxiety being divulged on this stage, an extremely healthy outlet for teenage aggression, regardless of what the rest of the world thought. 

But her challenger didn't seem content to leave it there, with cold eyes, that clearly thought he had the competition wrapped up. "Generic as rice-cakes, she says, as her bitchass pussy recycles lyrics from previous competitions. Accuses me off trying to hide my insecurities, when this bitch is probably caked in makeup thicker than her bra size. I stand on top of you losers, even my shit is greater than yours ever will be, you can't take the level of my hardness. Stab a knife in your cunt, wouldn't change a goddamn thing about you, you're that fucked over. Mankind is ruled by sex, they say that the downfall of every great man is a sneaky slut, and you're not different, not really. But as a fucking faggot, all you do is tease and tease, with no end in sight, get off this stage and go wander down Red Light to find a massage parlour*, it's the only place you'll ever belong."

She rather thought that she'd be angry at that, but all she could feel was a slight numbness, even as the rest of the club whistled, in a mixture of reluctant awe and sheer disgust at his impeccable flow and disgusting lyrics. She smiled, dryly, and cracked her neck. "Recycling lyrics, he says, when his are at the level of Iggy Azealia, barely able to rhyme. The downfall of every great man is a slut, but you're no great man, and aren't even worth my time. You'd fall without my assistance, I don't need to waste my time on ignorant bastards. I'll say it, I'm not afraid, I'll stand proud and taller than all of you. I'm a faggot and proud, I'm a faggot who loves girls, I'm the faggot you chase out of schools, feeling challenged by we who have the strength to defy the norm. This faggot's flow is hundred miles per hour, while yours is barely enough to cross a speedbump, this faggot's got the crowd pumping with enthusiasm when you can barely get a whistle. This faggot has a better style, better life than you, because this faggot's not insecure, this faggot's no.2 in the nation! I'm flaying the skin off your back with the strength of my tongue, sit back and fall back, with a life like this and a mouth like yours; you'll never win. I'm Peter Pan, flying above the stars and you are Captain Hook, just waiting for the clock to stop ticking. Go home to Gangwon, it's the only way in which you'll ever be solid!" 

It was one of the most energetic raps she'd ever done and when she finished, she dropped the mic on the stage, because there was no way she could top that, not today, and maybe not ever. And she knew, by the sour expression on his face, that he had also realized that, but pulled the mic up to his face anyway. Nayeon rolled her eyes and leant forward, vicious snarl on her face, pulling her panting voice under control for a few more moments. "Learn when to lose, idiot. Nobody will accept you for continuing after I just obliterated you. Get off the stage." 

With a dirty look, he too dropped his mic, sarcastically, and jumped off the front off the stage, disappearing into the crowd that had gathered around the small stage. Nayeon grinned over at Taegyun, who shot her thumbs up, as he looked around for other challengers. There wasn't a single taker, so he went back to DJing some more popular songs with similar beats together.

A low exhale under her breath, Nayeon made to exit backstage, feeling a lot lighter already, when there was a low rumble of noise. Nayeon turned around to hear, 'Get your fucking hands off me, bitch." shouted in the voice that had just been insulting her this whole time. In front of him was Jinsol, unmistakable with her feather-soft brown hair and bright red dress, a tallish girl with short-cropped black hair and heart-shaped lips, and Yoongi, whose face was almost red as she got up in his face, growling something that Nayeon couldn't hear.

He snarled something back, pushing her away, and Yoongi looked set to punch him. Nayeon's eyes widened and she jumped off the stage, quickly, pushing through the crowd of dancing people to get to the back as quickly as possible and make sure that Yoongi didn't actually get to punch him and start a real brawl. Less talented rapper or not, the guy had muscles she didn't want to compete with in a real fight, and she was sure that Yoongi didn't want to compete with. 

Bursting through the last stragglers, Nayeon drew up just in time to see the rapper wind up to punch Yoongi straight in the nose, having already thrown her to the ground. But before she could dive in and try to divert the punch instead, Jinsol had reached forward and lobbed her stiletto heel at the back of his head, in a blow that sounded loudly against the soft of his skull. The guy crumpled forward instantly, like the videos of tin cans being crushed by apples and shit that they had on YouTube and security finally came forward as well.

Nayeon blinked in mild horror and confusion, unable to move from staring at the scene, as Yoongi pushed herself up from the floor, looking a little dazed and Jinsol sweetly explained that 'he was threatening my dongsaeng with physical violence' and how he was 'just a bit too drunk to stay around, why don't you strapping young officers take him home?' To her utmost bewilderment, it _worked_ , leaving Nayeon, Yoongi and the unfamiliar girl to stare at Jinsol with sheer awe.

"That's a lesson on how a pretty face and decent flirting can win over absolutely anybody. You listening Huiseon-ah? You're probably the only one who'll be able to incorporate that advice, these two blockheads could never." Jinsol said, primly, as she put on her stiletto again and exhaled, cheerily, as if she hadn't just brained a man into unconsciousness. Huiseon just laughed, light and pretty, and Nayeon numbly noted that this was the mysterious J-Hope.

"There was no need for you to defend me like that." Nayeon said, her voice suddenly kickstarting again, as she realized exactly what had just happened. "I did a perfectly good enough job of it on stage."

"It wasn't just you he was insulting, Nayeon-ah, that was the problem." Jinsol said, seriously, as they headed back to their table, where their bags and coats were still stacked up and four Corkscrews sat innocently against the glistening wood. Nayeon's eyes darted back to Ikje at the bar, who just saluted her, with a saucy wink. "You defended yourself, but he insulted all of womankind."

"Can't a girl defend her own honour?" asked Yoongi, throwing herself down into the chair, sulkily, a light blush over her cheeks. "Also fuck, unnie, I had that covered, I didn't even get a chance to do more than sock the motherfucker in the face. I wanted to break his nose and make sure the bastard can't ever have kids." Her gaze slid towards Nayeon for a small instant, but it was enough to make Nayeon feel just a little better. 

"Extreme." commented Huiseon, mildly, slinging her hand over Yoongi's shoulder, with an amused grin towards Nayeon, as if asking _'typical, right?'_. Nayeon returned the smile, hesitantly. "Asshole probably deserved it though. Are all rap battles like that?"

Jinsol laughed, low and easy, "Ha! You're expecting too much from us city-folk, Huiseon-ah. That's one of the most intense rap battles I've seen in a long time. Though I hear yours and Yoongi's was something else, Nayeon-ah? Hyosang gushed about it for a good two hours, and he usually doesn't do that for anything that isn't related to music or his kids." 

"Ours was pretty decent, I think so." Nayeon agreed, giving Yoongi a look which wasn't returned as Yoongi studiously glared towards the bar. " Lot less vicious though, ours sounded more like a collaboration than a diss battle. This is probably the most insulting battle I've ever been in. Good challenge, though." 

"Yeah, I can tell, you're still sort of sweating." Huiseon pointed out, easily, before starting upwards and bowing lowly. "I'm being rude, so sorry, please excuse my rush! I'm Jung Huiseon, Gwangju baby and aspiring rapper J-Hope. It's an absolute pleasure to be in the presence of the Rap Goddess! Yoongi-unnie never stops talking about how great you are."

"Likewise." Nayeon said, with an amused grin, bowing politely as well. "But please, Nayeon works a lot better than Rap Goddess when I'm not on stage." Huiseon clicked her fingers at Nayeon like they were guns and winked, cheesily. It made Nayeon laugh in amusement, and Yoongi roll her eyes, in exasperated fashion. 

"We're the same age, right?" asked Huiseon, cheerily, leaning over, with a smile. "I know that Yoongi-unnie and Jinsol-unnie are basically the same age, but wasn't sure about you." 

"I am not the same age as Yoongi! I'm the elder one. Thankfully. I've only met her four times, and I already know that she's an absolute menace." Jinsol exclaimed, reaching forward to pull off Yoongi's snapback, and steal it. "I may have to pray to God for the second time and thank him for this."

"What was the first time you prayed?" asked Huiseon, grin breaking out across her face, as she leaned her elbows against the smalls of Yoongi's shoulders. 

"To thank him for this beautiful face, of course." Jinsol said, completely seriously, making Nayeon chuckle and Huiseon outright giggle. The way that Huiseon sort of half-lingered on Jinsol's features made it sort of clear that Huiseon was also not one of the straights, and was at least bisexual, and something lurched in Nayeon's stomach, reminding her that this was _J-Hope_. Yoongi's favourite dongsaeng and talented rapper _and_ dancer. And fuck, she hadn't needed the reminder, because comparing herself to the other girl, Nayeon could only see flaws. 

Huiseon was taller than Yoongi (which wasn't too much of a hardship) but she wasn't a giraffe, like the right height for an average girl. Her skin was not super tan like Nayeon's nor was her face huge and round, instead slight and narrow and long. She had glossy, heart-shaped lips and a sweet smile, and was bouncy and peppy in a way that just tired Nayeon by looking at it. She was like the sort of girlfriend material in the same way that Jimin was, and Nayeon couldn't help but silently resign herself to losing.

Still, Huiseon was sweet, smiling at Nayeon all the time every time they caught gazes and making faces every now and then in her direction. It was comfortable and friendly, to sit and listen to Jinsol, Yoongi and Huiseon bicker, while throwing in a few comments in, every now and then. 

"What are you even doing here, Jinnie-unnie? Don't you have like...a billion and a half finals coming up?" asked Nayeon, breaking in, when Yoongi had finishing teasing Huiseon for her inability to recognize the difference between hairballs and spiders when drunk off her brain. 

Jinsol exhaled and shook out her hair, with a wry smile, as she finished her second drink. "Oh Nayeonie, have you never heard of procrastination? And Hyosang is off doing something musicy, so I couldn't even do what I usually do when I want to waste time..." At this, she made some more crude gestures that made Huiseon collapse over in laughter and Yoongi roll her eyes, a low laugh under her breath. 

"Number two in the nation dallying with things like procrastination? I don't think so. Procrastination is for us lowly sorts, unnie, Nayeonnie doesn't fall prey to stuff like that." She reached forward to slide a hand across Nayeon's arms, in a gentle reassurance, and Nayeon felt a slight shiver slide down her spine, an involuntary reaction to Yoongi's calloused fingers on her. 

"Number two in the nation?" asked Huiseon, sobering up from her giggle fest. "Oh shit man, that's so good. I barely scraped past my practise exams this year. That's why I gotta get this audition down, or I'm fucked." Then her face spread into a wide, wheedling grin and she leant forward, until she was almost in Nayeon's face, ignoring the conventions of personal space entirely. "Say Nayeonie. Why don't we ditch this place and go find a place where you could tutor me? I can buy the food, and you can make sure I have a livelihood when the cruel world of reality envelops us?" 

Nayeon flushed and smiled awkwardly at Huiseon. Was the dancer flirting with her? This was unexpected. Not entirely what she'd been expecting. At all. 

"Christ, Seonie." Yoongi groused, reaching forward to drag Huiseon back by the scruff of her shirt, a firm slap to Huiseon's waist as she sat down. "Stop scaring everybody with your antics. Like Nayeon has the time to somehow make you an A student. It would take even Steven Hawking a whole year with your brain."

Huiseon's face relaxed from her creepy smile and she shrugged, languidly, with an easy grace. "Eh. Worth a shot. My mother despairs more and more with every day that passes." 

"You'll pass the audition, sweetie." Jinsol reassured, softly, leaning forward to pay Huiseon's hands. "With a pretty face and toned body like yours? Definitely. Plus you're talented too? That's so rare here in Seoul." Despite Jinseol's tone, Huiseon still looked worried, a tension in the way her mouth downturned and her shoulders were tight. 

Nayeon shook her head and laughed, lowly, running her fingers over the rim of her shot glass. "Besides, even if I can't make you an A-student, I can definitely help you pass for an arts university. Now that my mixtape with Yoongi-unnie's all done and I have to pretend to study for the real exams, I might as well teach you and revise some stuff myself." 

Huiseon bounced up, happily, something like relief over her features. "Wait, really? Oh man, you have no _idea_ how grateful I would b--hold on, let me give you my kakaotalk ID, we can video chat and stuff when I head back to Daegu at the end of this week. Lord almighty, I need all the help I can get, thank you so much. I don't get _shit_ and my girlfriend is absolutely useless too, even if she's also an A student."

Girlfriend? Girlfriend? _Girlfriend?_ Well, it wasn't Yoongi, Yoongi may have been treasurer but her grades were definitely not all As. So...they didn't like each other....?

Yoongi snickered, suddenly and when Jinsol gave her a quizzical look, she elaborated. "Her girlfriend, Taehui, tried to tutor me for literature for once, and when I asked her questions about how to analyse stuff, she just goes 'it just means that, unnie, you're stupid' then drew butterflies in the corners of the page for the next hour." 

"Wait, isn't Taehui your dongsaeng?' asked Nayeon, with a grin, as something started to click in her head, about the three people that Yoongi spoke about with such fondness. "Why was she tutoring you?"

"Taehui's two years younger than Yoongi-unnie and she was still better, that's when you know you're fucked." Huiseon murmured, with a low, fond happiness laced through her words of praise of her girlfriend, "Though I can't speak, I'm not much better than Yoongi. At least unnie managed to pass her entrance exams, even if she refused her offers for placement." 

Nayeon patted Huiseon's back. "Don't worry girl, I got you. I'll make sure you beat Yoongi-unnie's score on the entrance exams." she offered, lightly, with a slow grin spreading over her face, at Yoongi's look of annoyance and Jinsol's explosion of giggles. 

Huiseon threw herself enthusiastically at Nayeon and squeezed tightly around Nayeon's ribs. "You're the fucking best, thank you so much, I definitely have to buy you a couple of rounds of drinks if my scores improve. I'm going to be your new best friend. If someone else already got there, I'm going to _fight_ them for it. I'll beat them up. Hua. Hua! HYA!" she said, rocking Nayeon back and forth as she rambled. Nayeon couldn't help but laugh at this, and buried her chuckles in Huiseon's shoulders, giving up the fight to get out of Huiseon's grip. She could already tell it would be useless. 

"Ttch." Yoongi said, rolling her eyes, with annoyance. "Like you'll ever beat my score Jung Huiseon, I'm Min Yoongi and the the fucking best."

"Except for when Nayeon-ah beats you." coughed Jinseol into her empty glass, eyes sparkling and Nayeon burst out laughing again, as Yoongi very distinctly pouted at those words. But their gazes caught, for a slow moment and it was the good sort of feeling that Nayeon always wanted to cherish. Yoongi's dark eyes bored into Nayeon's for a moment, with a sentiment that was competition but not exactly competition at the same time, and Nayeon could only return it with the intensity she felt. But the moment broke all too quickly for Nayeon's liking, as Huiseon dragged Yoongi down to the dance floor and Jinsol swiftly following her, only dragging along Nayeon along as an afterthought. 

-

The night air was cold, and Nayeon really wish she had thought to bring a warmer jacket than her stupid pleather jacket, but such was the sacrifice for fashion. Next to her, Yoongi walked together with her in silence, arms occasionally bumping together, comfortably enjoying the cityscape going by them. It was a sort of peaceful time for them, as they walked back from the club and the fun times between the four girls. No talk about changing songs for their now-finished mixtape, no talk about different rapstyles of their peers, no talks about friends or worries, just relishing in the night sky and in each others presence. It was the sort of comforting atmosphere that Nayeon wanted to dream about, one day, and she swore to imprint this particular moment in her head. 

"You think it'll do well?" asked Yoongi, her voice low and sort of hoarse, as they started to near Nayeon's home. "The mixtape? I mean, I already saw a couple of articles on it on Naver, and that's really promising, but I can't help but wonder..."

"Time will tell." Nayeon responded, thoughtfully. "I don't know either. I hope people like it though. We put a lot of our hearts and thoughts in there." 

Yoongi hummed, in response, and it was slow and rumbly, a comforting sound, almost blending in with the sound of distant airplanes passing by or the whine of an apartment's generator, were it not for Nayeon being so closely intuned to everything Yoongi said or did. 

There was silence for a few moments, when Yoongi scoffed, silently and looked down at her ratty sneakers. "You did well tonight. Up on stage. I wish I'd recorded it, but I was too busy being pissed at him." 

"Thanks, unnie." Nayeon said, softly, letting her hair fall in front of her face, to hide her eyes for a little. "But not as good as I was against you. I've never felt so inspired than when I'm working with you. So you know. Thanks." 

Yoongi looked away, shoved her hands into her jean pockets and breathed out, leaving a trail of frosted fog to dissipate into the chill breeze. "God." she said, her voice low and intimate, so quiet that Nayeon had to lean in to hear it. "You make it sound like we're saying goodbye forever. You can come over whenever you know. And if enough people like the mixtape, we have to make part 2. Jeongmin insists on being part of a song next time." 

"My dongsaeng Jimin wants to be part of a track as well. And you have yet to meet her, too. She seems like your type of gal." Nayeon said, softly, in agreement. There was a lot that she wasn't saying, but by the almost red tinge on Yoongi's nose as they drew to a stop outside Nayeon's house, Yoongi understood at least part of the gratitude that Nayeon felt. 

"See?" Yoongi murmured, looking up at Nayeon, with a raw confidence, the confidence that made her shine on stage. Nayeon's breath caught in her chest for a moment, as she nodded, in understanding. And there was something too captivating in Yoongi's gaze in that moment, something arresting and inviting, and Nayeon couldn't quite bring herself to stop the traitor hand that darted out to run a thumb over Yoongi's cheek, carefully, just to feel the soft skin. 

"Stray hair." Nayeon murmured under her breath, slowly, even if both of them seemed to know it was bullshit. For a moment, Nayeon considered leaning forward to kiss her, but the moment had already passed and it didn't feel right, anyway, so she smiled down at Yoongi instead. "Text me when you get home? It's cold today."

"Yeah, yeah, worrywort." Yoongi said, waving it off, as Nayeon headed up the path to her house and turned the key in the lock. The warmth of the house was a startling contrast to the outside and Nayeon shuddered as she kicked off her shoes haphazardly and walked over to the stairs, blankly, replaying the way that Yoongi had stood there, strong and confident and innumerably attractive. Yoongi wasn't in love with Huiseon, because Huiseon was very happily dating Taehui, the _other_ much-loved dongsaeng in Yoongi's life.

Which meant that Yoongi was very much open to affection. And if Nayeon wasn't mistaken, there was something in Yoongi's gaze, and her willingness to fight for Nayeon's honour. She was occasionally dense, but not completely stupid. There was something still worth fighting for in Yoongi's gaze and Nayeon wasn't about to give up. 

She stopped in her tracks, as she noticed that at the top of her stairs, stood her mother, pushing along a large assortment of stereo equipment. _Nayeon's_ studio equipment to be precise; nobody else in the house had anything like that. Her speakers, her synthesizer, the soundproofing material she used for her wall, the mixing tracks, her keyboard, her recorders, her microphones....

Her mother, who looked a little surprised to see Nayeon there, frowned, unhappily. "So. You decided to come back after all. Do you know the time?"

Nayeon blinked, feeling a little out of it, still, Yoongi's features still in her mind. "It's a Saturday..." she said, quietly. 

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter, weekday or not for you, since you're _always_ going out to have fun." her mother snapped, sharply, with long, sharp features, and Nayeon remembered Jimin's worried face and words, and started to regret. "I got a very interesting call today from cram school this morning. Apparently you haven't been attending classes regularly for the past two months, and have been missing a lot of classes even before then? Would you like to explain that to me, young lady?" she demanded and Nayeon's stomach suddenly dropped.

Shit, shit shit, this made sense, how had she not been careful enough about it. Sure, her friends had covered for her, but the teachers would know. They would care because she was a star student, stupid, stupid stupid. "I'm sorry--"

"Do you _know_ how much money I spend on enrolling you in cram school?" interrupted her mother, loud and angry, "On paying for your education? Or making sure that you do well? On your private school and donations, to make sure that they do not discriminate you for being a woman? And you throw it away like this? On what? On music? On something that you won't last a day in?"

Nayeon stared up at her mother mutely, blinking. She felt far away from the situation somehow, her eyes unable to leave the way her mother held onto her synthesizer and mini keyboard, and mind unable to leave the soft curve of Yoongi's lips. "I told you that I wanted to be a musician, mother, I made that very clear from the beginning." Nayeon started, but her mother growled, angrily.

"You came second in the country! Could you have come first if you hadn't been wasting your time and skipping cram school? Could you have made new records if you hadn't been out wasting your potential?" A slow blossoming of guilt filtered through Nayeon's chest, despite Yoongi's previous words about where potentials lay, and she looked down, gritting her teeth. 

"Is second not enough for you? Do I have to be completely perfect before you'll accept me, is that it? I told you that this isn't what I wanted to do!" she said, annoyance starting to build in her chest, for the guilt trips pinching reactions from her heart. 

"And which music industry will accept you?" demanded her mother, raising her hands, eyes widening behind her glasses. "A woman in hiphop, they'll kill you, rip you apart, before they have you succeed at the level you wish! And will you go off to be an idol? Go get sponsors, sell your body for the slightest chance to get on TV and shake your ass?! I didn't raise my daughter to lose her dignity like this!"

"So do you want me to lose my dignity slowly instead?" demanded Nayeon, instead, snapping angrily back, hands curling up at her sides. "The slow loss of dignity and vivid life as I toil through mindless labour that they tell us is _so_ important in a company, become some other man's bitch of a personal assistant, since they'll _never_ promote me anyway. Find some _nice_ man to marry, have 2.5 children and lose all of my passion, all of my verve, all of my strength? Like _you_?" 

Her mother stared down at Nayeon, with a mixture of emotions that Nayeon could barely read, and she was aware that she had perhaps gone too far in an argument, but before she could register that, her mother screamed and threw down the first speaker down the stairs. Nayeon watched in blank horror at it bounced down the seventh step, third step and then smashed against the floor, sending fragments of the grill out against the steps and caving in the soft fabric of the front. 

She looked up again in time to see the synthesizer hit the floor, and watch it crack down into a million splintered fragments, the knobs and buttons on the top popping outwards and spinning uselessly, against the smooth, wooden floor. It all seemed so far away. her mother's screaming, the sound of smashing, the probable shards that had scratched her arms, because all she could see was almost 80 songs and another 15 partial tracks stored on her synthesizer being erased, in one single smash. 

She'd bought all of this with her own money. Her own cash, won from competitions and odd jobs. She'd never taken a penny from her parents for her music aspirations, and here was all of her hard work from the past and her hard work for the future gone, just like that, extinguished in one crash of a too frazzled temper. 

Art was ephemeral, yes, but like this?

Was this how people had felt, when the totalitarian dictators of their time had destroyed the works of thousands of free-thinking authors? The vanishing of ideas or thoughts, of words and melodies and thoughts, gone from human civilization? Was this wrenching sense of loss the same feeling that the librarian of the Alexandria Library had felt, as they were restrained, to passively watch their life's ambitions go up in flames? 

Nayeon darted forward, ignoring the bouncing of ruined mics dropping down around her as she cradled the synthesizer in her hands, trying to slot the buttons back in, push back the smashed plastic and the tangle of wires that didn't even look usable anymore. She was no expert at fixing things, but surely she could do something about this. Something, even as the plastic cut into her thumbs, leaving loose slices of skin, and slight wells of red blood against the plastic. 

She didn't realize she was crying, until she saw the drops of clear saltwater splash against the knobs. Her mother had stopped and from a distance, beyond the ringing sounds of her ears blocking out everything else, she could hear her voice being called, perhaps by her father or her mother or her little sister, but Nayeon could only have eyes for the synthesizer.

Fix...it needed to be fixed. Someone who was good at fixing things. Not Donghyuk, he didn't know shit about electrical appliances, only about shelves and bookcases, and giving Jimin a screwdriver was about as ineffective as giving a cute puppy a screwdriver. Electrical--

She lurched up to her feet, unsteadily, still holding the synthesizer. not stopping to properly put on her shoes again, Nayeon burst out of the house, and started to run, towards the direction she knew that Yoongi would be walking home, uncaring about the cold nor about the other people walking home as well, who could see her.

"Yoongi-unnie! Unnie! Yoongi-unnie!" Nayeon half-called, half-screamed, as she saw the small figure in the distance, hunched up and over, no doubt with earphones plugged in. She ran as quickly as she could, careful to keep the synthesizer clutched properly in her hands, even as she stumbled over her own unsteady feet and untied shoes. She managed to overtake Yoongi and stop, brandishing out the broken hulk of plastic and metal in her hands, panting heavily, trying to catch back a semblance of breath or reason. 

"Fix it." Nayeon said, weakly, when Yoongi didn't make a move to do anything. "You can fix it, right? Right? You're good at electrical appliances?"

Yoongi just looked up at Nayeon, eyes crinkling up in one of the saddest faces that Nayeon had ever seen. Nayeon moaned lowly, as Yoongi swallowed, heavily and nervously."Nayeon-ahh--" Yoongi started, but Nayeon dropped down to her knees, bowing her head down as low as she could, without outright prostrating herself on the road.

"P-please unnie! _Please unnie_ , I'm begging you, I'll do anything, you-you gotta help me. Please fix it!" And she broke down crying, unable to stop the tears from completely clouding her vision now, but she held the synthesizer up and away, like the treasure it was. All of her ideas, all of her finished tracks, all of the slight variations, all of the goods and the bads, the records of what she had been and what she could become. 

Yoongi's arms closed around Nayeon's shoulders, and her hand brushed down Nayeon's head, smoothing down her hair, soothing and warm. There were no words of platitude exchanged, no statements of sympathy or empathy, no lies of being able to fix the smashed hunk of plastic that had been her livelihood. Just quiet comfort. But exactly what she needed, and what made her feel even more pathetic. 

Nayeon sniffed, angrily and tried to stem the tears, as quickly as she could, furiously rubbing her tears away on her shoulders, and it partially worked, allowing Nayeon to stagger up to her feet, properly, swaying a little. 

"Hey, hey, careful." Yoongi said, slowly, gripping Nayeon's elbows, firmly, to steady her in place. "Let's put that down." Nayeon shook her head, unable to quite explain why she needed to keep it, now that she knew there was no salvaging it, but Yoongi didn't push the issue, letting Nayeon cradle it under her left armpit, choosing instead to slip her arm into one of Nayeon's and started to carefully tug them down the street, firm and sharp as she led Nayeon away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Prostitution is illegal in Korea, but is still one of Korea's largest industries after agriculture and technology, and many brothels disguise themselves as karaokes and massage shops. 
> 
> [In memoriam of some of the truly disgusting things that happen to women in Korea and across the world](http://beyondhallyu.com/culture/gangnam-subway-entrance-covered-in-post-its-after-woman-murdered-by-misogynist/). Also, Namjoon said in an interview that his mother actually did throw away his mixing equipment at one point, though the video link for that on youtube no longer works. 
> 
> This chapter caused me a lot of difficulty for a variety of different reasons, and is also very long, and I also had finals...which are all lame excuses for why this is so late, but also true. But anyway. I hope you enjoyed, please comment or hit me up at tumblr @arysthaeniru if you have anything to say! I love to hear your thoughts.


	4. Intermission: Yoongi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I have no fucking shame :') Yoongi ripped out my heart and hung it up on his wall with his mixtape and his emotions about greed and anger that so closely mirror my own struggles. If you follow my twitter or tumblr, you probably saw that. This ficlet is because, despite the hints I give about Yoongi's life in ggitn, I never actually talk about it explicitly and it's not part of Nayeon's piece, because it isn't (yet) Nayeon's story. And there was supposed to a be prequel spinoff with yoongi, huiseon and taehui, but I wanted to write Yoongi in the now, so. yes. here. cryptic hints to a shared past.

Seoul was colder in the winters than Yoongi had been expecting, but that was probably partially because her apartment was shitty and couldn't keep in any semblance of heat. And her clothes never helped that much either; she could barely afford anything warmer than her hoodies, because of exorbitant mainland prices. So Yoongi just bought lots of thin ratty t-shirts, in those cheap five-packs from the cheapest stores, and wore all of them all week, just changing the layer which touched her skin, each day. It made her look a little bigger than she actually was, especially since she wore men's sizes, which never fit her frame properly, but well, at 5"3', she needed every extra pretense at size.

She was small and she was almost skeletally thin and she looked more fragile than she actually was, and Yoongi hated it and loved it and loathed it all at the same time. 

Every cent of money was important, every dime of her time and her money was crucial to survival. It was why she combined her laundry with Jeongmin's once a week, it was why she never ate breakfast when she could help it, it was why she had rented out Blu Room despite it having the thinnest walls she'd ever heard of, being right above a sex club. So, it was practically obvious she couldn't have free time anymore. She had to work early in the mornings, at the concierge job that her height and her small fragile face had somehow managed to get her (the only positive thing they managed to get her) and she had to do music in the evenings. There was no time for frivolities, there was no time for fun. Music was fun, music was her life, so she had to dedicate as much time to it as possible.

Which is why Yoongi knew that this.... _thing_ she had with Nayeon was stupid. It was a waste of time, to be spending so much texting time on Nayeon which should have been rapping time, so much time wasted on checking that Nayeon was eating, on hearing about Nayeon's day, to listen to Nayeon's complaints about misogyny. The only thing she should have had room for with Nayeon, was in shaping and creating their album together. 

It had started as a mixtape, when they'd first been working on music together, the frenzied, almost feverish first week of knowing Nayeon and her inspiring light and her enthusiasm and almost _overwhelming_ talent, but they'd quickly moved past sampling other people's music. The creativity between them was too strong and too intense and too filled with a current (that Yoongi didn't really want to waste time thinking about), to be using other people's things. This was their album and theirs alone. Not to mention, Yoongi needed the money. She was desperate for money, the need clenched at her lungs, late at night when she couldn't sleep for cold, or from the gnawing hunger of her guts or the tired aching of her legs from being on her feet all day. She couldn't sell a mixtape, that was against everything that rappers ever did for each other, which meant it all had to be original, and it was getting to her, the stress was getting to her, especially as Nayeon and her finished up their songs, and the finishing touches slowly crystallized and webbed over the songs. 

She knew that they were never going to be completely in sync about musical choices, not after their fight over how their music was supposed to sound like, but she was nervous and worried, and filled with despair as she listened to their tracks over and over again and found them lacking, found them filled with errors, found no way to edit it out during mastering, no way to make it better, except pretend that it had never existed. 

She wanted to delete everything, to throw the covers over her head and never show the world, because she hated it, the more she listened to it (but yet, couldn't stop listening to it), but pragmatism tugged at her. It was a waste of time, a waste of precious money if she scrapped these tracks, if she spent more time on them than she could afford. Even when it felt like the inspiration and the determination was running lower and lower with every passing day, even if it felt like it wasn't good, as if it was trash--she had to push forward.

She had to be unafraid to release those songs, because it was _Nayeon's_ as much as it was hers, and Yoongi couldn't imagine that Nayeon would ever forgive Yoongi destroying everything and hiding. Nayeon showed all of her to the world and didn't care about the consequences, just accepted them and apologized when she needed to, and kept walking, and Yoongi respected it and was so jealous of it. 

Before she knew it, before she could even stop herself, before she could walk way from the precipice, her fingers hovered over the delete button and stared, as if by staring, she could make the work self-implode, so she wouldn't have that delete button imprinted upon her soft, easily-bruised fingers, upon her conscience.

And then her phone beeped, insistent and loud, and Yoongi pulled away from her computer, to glare at her phone. Only four people had vibrate turned off for them, and she hoped, begged that it wasn't Nayeon, because she didn't need to hear Nayeon's voice right now, didn't need to read anything from someone who was quickly becoming essential to Yoongi's creative process, in a sort of codependence that Yoongi didn't want to foster at all.

So she was considerably happy when instead, the notification was from Huiseon. 

**Seonie, 12:34**  
just landed in seoul!!  
waiting for my auntie, when will she get here :( 

**Me, 12:35**  
that's a late flight  
you okay?

 **Seonie, 12:35**  
feel a bit sick, hahaha, i hate flights  
but slept for a lot of it  
i'm okay  
will be better tomorrow when i go to jyp, i think  
nervous as hell

 **Me, 12:36**  
you're better than all the competition, aren't you?  
isn't that enough?

 **Seonie, 12:37**  
if its not enough for u in rap, it's never enough for me  
there's always a standard we can aspire to, a better tomorrow that we can have  
im worried it wont be enough

 **Me, 12:38**  
well i'm not the best  
so it doesn't fucking matter  
but you are  
never seen someone better than you at freestyle and smiling  
they'd be fucking fools to reject you  
you'll do fine

 **Seonie, 12:40**  
u r a hypocrite, you know that?  
i bet even now u wanna delete everything  
i really hate that about u, unnie  
u say such nice things to me and to tae, but u never let it apply to urself

Yoongi frowned and closed her eyes, for a long moment. Huiseon had that talent, much to her frustration. She managed to pull out every last emotion from Yoongi's dregs of her ruined soul, and pulled them up to the forefront, made Yoongi feel less empty, like she was a human, even only through anger and annoyance, the anger and annoyance she didn't want, always being brought up to the surface and validated by Huiseon. She hated it. 

**Me, 12:45**  
you know why  
don't fucking test me  
we're meeting tomorrow?

 **Seonie, 12:46**  
would say yes  
but unnie  
auntie isn't responding to my messages  
i'm really tired  
can i crash at ur place instead?  
ill go in the morning  
she probably fell asleep and she uses pills, so she won't wake up

 **Me, 12:47**  
you're a peace of shit  
*piece  
fucking phone  
you know how fucking cold it is right now?

Yoongi grumpily stuffed on her hoodie and adjusted her shirts properly, fingers lingering on the earmuffs that she had _liberated_ from her lost and found pile in the hotel, pragmatism tugging at her more than her guilty conscience ever could, as she tugged them on as well. The fluffy scarf, she just carried in her hands, to loop around her fingers, and she tucked her phone into her pockets carefully, before grabbing some money and her subway ticket. 

**Huiseon, 12:50**  
...that's a yes, right?  
please let it be a yes, i'm freezing as well  
u haven't seen these messages yet, so u mst be on the move  
ur a fucking saint

 **Me, 12:56**  
meet me halfway  
should be a shuttle from the airport to the subway station  
take it and go down into the underground and wait there  
i'll be coming up from the east  
from hongdae  
you better worship me  
i was in the middle of my album prep, bitch

 **Huiseon, 12:59**  
album? a myg venture i haven't heard about?  
wtf is this unnie  
tae hasn't heard about it either, has she?  
she would have been all over my ass if she knew  
disappointed in ur ass  
well not really, ur ass is pretty fine  
but u know what i mean  
also there's no shuttle, but according to gps, there's a subway about three mins walk from here, called airport station?  
that where ur coming to? 

**Me, 01:11**  
yeah, sorry was catching the train  
airport station is the right one  
still can't believe you paid for a flight ticket instead of a train

 **Huiseon, 01:11**  
train would take longer. couldn't afford to miss too much of school  
two days is already ruining me  
losing so many notes for the entrance exams  
and don't think i don't see you avoiding the question unnie  
why didn't you tell us shit?

 **Me, 01:13**  
why do care about missing school? not gonna matter once you get accepted into the trainee team  
you hate heights  
would have been easier on a train ride

 **Huiseon, 01:14**  
still avoiding the question  
i'm gonna pinch your cheeks  
seriously  
god i hate you

Yoongi frowned down at the messages in her notification panel, and decided to not open them, shutting the app altogether, as she leant back against the railing in the subway, head back against the pole, as she struggled to stay on her feet. She could never actually reach the ceiling rails, so she had to grab one of the side rails, and hold on for all she could, and it was harder said than done, because her fingers were weak and she was weak from shivering and having only eaten lunch today. 

At least. At least, and this was a small victory, but like this, with her hood drawn up, and her baggy jeans and the layer of thermals underneath, she looked like a particularly young and short guy, instead of a girl, which meant she never had to deal with the harassment she knew that Nayeon was always dodging, and that Huiseon had had to punch off at one point. Small comforts, small mercies, because she wasn't sure she'd have been able to deal with it nearly as gracefully as they did, not now, not like this.

Just thinking about Huiseon's questions made her long for a cigarette, but those were back in her apartment, and was probably for the best too, there was a strict no smoking policy on subways here, which was just fine. 

Why hadn't she told Huiseon, her best friend, the reason she was still alive, about the album? Or Taehui, for that matter, who loved Yoongi's music almost more than Yoongi did? She didn't know, not entirely, but she was sure that a huge part of it was to do with how having Nayeon at her side, as they worked together in silence, elbows brushing, and how that had become such a small, fond happy place in her heart to go to. She didn't want to share Nayeon's presence in her life with others, didn't want to feature or write songs for anybody except Nayeon. Not this time around, anyway. This time, the songs were about their insecurities, and their strengths and their strange, too-fast friendship, and it was about the two of them, two female rappers in a world which hated them, who put their middle fingers up to the world.

And god. She didn't want to share that with the world, not even with her closest friends, and Yoongi _knew_ what that meant, she wasn't dumb. Her fingers twitched and she needed to do something, she was going crazy, and the idea of deleting her songs _still_ hadn't, left her mind, not now she was truly realizing what they meant to her, even when she didn't want to. 

**Me, 01:26**  
don't know how to answer it  
it's a long story  
maybe it'll be easier to say in person  
i'm so tired though huiseon-ah  
i'm so tired  
so tired of everything, seoul is sucking out my soul and i don't know if anything i have left is worth it

 **Seonie, 01:27**  
let me be your strength and your judge, then  
let me tell you whether what seoul has made myg into is worth it  
you're almost here, right?

Yoongi ducked her head, and let herself, stepping out of the subway doors, speak for her. Huiseon had perched herself and her stuff against one of the side walls, looking down at her phone and Yoongi walked up to her and coughed, not able to say anything else.

Huiseon looked up, and the first thing that Yoongi was able to notice, were her eyebags, as deep and as dark as Yoongi's own, before she was engulfed in a huge, bonecrushing hug. Yoongi felt herself come off the floor a little bit as she clung to Huiseon's shoulders and laughed, despite herself, at Huiseon's consistent high-pitched squeal in her ears. It was a timbre that Yoongi had missed, an expression of happiness, so unguarded and wonderful it could never be found here, in the hearts of the calculating city, not like it had been with Taehui and Huiseon before. 

And Yoongi had thought that with her own occasionally sly, and all too ambitious nature, that she would belong here, but looking at Huiseon now and thinking about how strong the three of them had been together, Yoongi couldn't help but wonder if she had been all too wrong, and whether leaving had been a good idea after all. 

To outsiders, it might have looked like an overenthusiastic girlfriend crushing her boyfriend in a hug, but Huiseon meant so much more to Yoongi than any old romance could, was a part of Yoongi's soul, so deep and engrained that Yoongi would never be able to remove her, not without removing part of herself, and burying herself in Huiseon's neck was easy, like slipping back into a routine, into a waltz that she hadn't realized she'd missed or needed.

"You're so thin." Huiseon said, putting her down, carefully, examining her everywhere, just as she had promised, as they looped arms around each other and tugged each other towards the opposite side of the platform, to go back to Yoongi's place. "Paler too, I didn't think that was possible, my girl. Have you been using skin lightening creams?" 

"Ha!" Yoongi snorted, loudly, tucking her hands into her pockets, and gaining looks for the feminine timbre to her voice, working in contrast to her appearance. "I fucking wish. That shit's expensive, I barely have enough for three meals. Everything's expensive here, it's like they put an arbitrary tax of every-fucking-thing, just because it's from Seoul. And if you want to live in Hongdae? Even more fucking money, like they know that you're wasting your life instead of being a respectable member of society and want to punish you for it. Fucking backbreaking, that's what it is."

Huiseon was quiet as Yoongi silently wound the scarf over Huiseon's neck, tightening it around the leather jacket gently. "How's working as a concierge working out then?"

"Graveyard shift fucking sucks, hard to get public transport and the customers are fucking stupid in the mornings." Yoongi said, bluntly, "But at least my evenings are free, it means I get to work in the evenings, when I feel more inspired. I sleep in the afternoon, though, and just nap before work. It's a bit--"

"Tiring?" asked Huiseon, carefully, squeezing Yoongi's hand. "You looked exhausted. But. I wouldn't say that there isn't anything good left." she murmured as the train whirred into the platform."

"You haven't seen the worst of it." Yoongi muttered darkly, ducking her head as they sat down in slightly more empty train. Her earmuffs slipped down over her ears, and Huiseon made a muted noise, as she pushed them up and lingered on the fur, eyes faraway. 

"What did you mean about no longer being the best?" asked Huiseon gently, careful. "You're the best rapper I know, better than G-Dragon or TOP or any of those famous rappers." she said, heartshaped lips down-turned and serious, as she often was, in these quiet moments inbetween life and inbetween events. Yoongi knew she wasn't supposed to have a favourite side to Huiseon, who was beautiful and larger-than-life and so nuanced, but Yoongi knew that this wasn't her favourite, even if it was often the most crystalline-beautiful, the sort of beauty that Yoongi had trouble looking at straight-on, without feeling at least a little bit insecure. 

"Not anymore." Yoongi said, laughing, bitter and proud. "Another girl, your age, but so much taller. Her name's Rap Goddess, she's with DNH, they did that one song that Tae really likes. She's a living miracle, Huiseon, honestly. I only feel a little bad for being less than her, because _god_ " Yoongi didn't really have words, so she lapsed off and ducked her head, hoping that their acquaintance would help Huiseon understand what Yoongi wasn't saying, couldn't say. "I'm doing the album with her. A collab album."

Huiseon's eyes were glittering and Yoongi didn't really like what they said, what they meant, what they were saying, so she stared down at her hands, skin peeling a little from the cold, and too dry from lack of lotion. She'd needed to get bandages or something, it was cheaper than lotion, even if it did mean it was more painful. "That's unusual." remarked Huiseon, softly. "You hate sharing your studio regularly."

Yoongi shrugged. "I've never met someone who's so good at music." she said, quietly. "I love D-TOWN, but it was never like this with them." Probably because she didn't have those weird soft emotions, about everything that they did, every little gesture of giving, every consideration, every too-long look of appraisal that Nayeon gave her. She'd never been falling for any members of D-TOWN, and had never been honestly blown away by their rapping, and that made all the difference. "It's indescribable."

Huiseon's face softened, slow and easy. "Bet you could do it with enough time. You've always been good at that. All of my words just come out all tangled up, I always need you to straighten out my lyrics. You have a way with words."

Yoongi frowned, and rapped Hoseok's arm with her knuckles, in small displeasure. "It's not natural, just hard work. You could do it just as easy if you cared more about the rapping part of hip-hop. You just want to dance."

Huiseon shrugged, unable to dispute Yoongi's words, a slow smile on her face, making her look strained and too tired, even under her golden-brown skin, and Yoongi felt bad for reminding Huiseon of dance, she looked unbelievably lonely and nervous, as she had when Yoongi had first met her. "Dunno if that's enough."

"Make it enough." 

Huiseon gave Yoongi a _look_ , the unimpressed look that made her entire face look like a meme, and the sort of expression that made Taehui scrunch up with happiness, and Yoongi firmly ignored, in favour of getting up and slipping out to the Hongdae station. The nightlife was still going strong, friday night meaning that the festivities in the clubs were just getting started, all things considered, even through the cold and Yoongi shoved her hands into her pockets and hunched up, to look bigger and feel warmer. Huiseon slipped her arm over Yoongi's shoulder and they quickly wove through the crowd, even with Huiseon's luggage dragging behind them.

They didn't speak, in favour of getting out of the cold as quickly as possible, and watching Huiseon gape at the bright lights, and the unhidden red light district and massage shops around them. The drunken revels, the people passed out on the pavement from shot competitions, buskers everywhere, hoping to strike it lucky and the people passing out flyers, hoping to catch someone to buy their overpriced, fake-label designer clothing, the bustle and toil of city life that Yoongi still hadn't completely gotten used to, but one that definitely felt more natural to her than it did to Huiseon. She dodged around a homeless person, ignoring the stab of guilt in the centre of her chest for doing that and swung around to the backstreet alleyways, where a few people snogged, pressing each other against walls and hiking their legs up. Yoongi just boredly walked past them, neither bothering them nor gaping, just ready to get home, even if Huiseon looked surprised and just a bt too flushed. 

"Honestly," she murmured, as they traipsed up the outside stairs to her apartment, "Rich bastards don't even know how to hide what they have. Could probably steal the Rolex straight off their wrist while they're snogging and they wouldn't be able to tell. You ought to treasure what you have."

Huiseon tugged off her scarf and stared around her, at the shabby, awkwardly angled pads over the walls, to absorb the sound and create unpredictable bounce patterns, at the dirty furniture and the slight smell of ramyun and sex she couldn't ever get out, even with three different types of air freshner. Huiseon, despite it all, grinned so genuinely, that Yoongi couldn't help bu feel more comfortable and more happy about the shitty house, the shitty wayplace she had managed to scratch out for herself, with her claws, her face and her self-determination. 

"It's not riches to them." Huiseon murmured, carefully dropping down on the couch, "It doesn't matter to them, so they don't treasure it. Fuckers. Makes it easier for the rest of us to take advantage, though. Once in fifth grade I conned some of them out of a whole set of copic markers, with just some wordplay and they didn't even cry about it, hey cared so little."

"You told me." Yoongi murmured, lips twitching up, as she took her own seat back by her table, the familiar story always amusing, with Huiseon's animated voice. "But it depends, right? Whether they're fucking obnoxious about it, or whether they know and do their best to alleviate conditions." 

Huiseon's look focused on Yoongi, too astute and reading, too used to all of her microexpressions and suddenly, Yoongi felt trapped, as if the walls were going to close in on her, along with Huiseon's eyes and everything felt like it was moving too fast and everything was narrowing down to her, and she didn't _want_ the attention. The panic was all too quick and Yoongi looked away again, rapidly rummaging around the crowded table, until she could brush her fingers over the pack of cigarettes, and feel the familiar weight in her hands, the calmness that managed to drift over her panic, like a thin film, separating it from the world.

It wasn't much, but it was enough, just for now, to stave off the mindless panic that would make her curl up under her blankets. But now, Huiseon's gaze had turned to the cigarette packet, and her lips had parted. 

"I thought you quit." said Huiseon, licking her lips with worry. 

"I did." Yoongi said, immediately, defensively, "I just. I like having it around. Just in case. But I haven't gone back. Not yet." There had moments she'd been too close, when the anger, when the jealousy, when the self-hatred, when the inadequacy got too much, but she'd never gotten further than sticking it in her mouth and running her tongue over the filter. 

"Does it actually help though?" asked Huiseon, voice smooth and eyes too curved, the low haze of sleepiness clouding her tone, and making it almost too honest, gaze not leaving the cigarettes, slowly tipping out of the packet from Yoongi's lazy grasp on them. Yoongi didn't want to hear it at all, but also never wanted to ignore it. "Does it really help, or do you just think it does? Because it looks like a crutch for me, of a person fully healed, still holding their wheelchair because they're too afraid to fly." 

The words were sharp, too harsh, not much like Huiseon normally, but they were cutting and cold enough that Yoongi let her emotions rise up in her again, like a well, enough to speak without even worrying about what Huiseon would think. "I never healed. It's not something that just _goes away_ , it's always there. And it was getting too expensive for a bad habit. So I canned it. Besides. If I want to die, I'm going to die at my own hands. Not from some pills, not from a car, not from cancer slowly poisoning me from the inside. It's going to be me, myself and a knife. Cheap and quick and deliberate. Not cowardly. I don't want to end it while being a coward anymore. That's it. That's how I want to go."

Huiseon said nothing, sniffling slightly from the cold, in the quiet consideration she always adopted when Yoongi had said something too personal and too painful, something uncomfortable, in the way that indicated that Huiseon could do nothing but offer quiet comfort. Sometimes Yoongi resented that, wanting words to soothe her over and make her feel real and valid and normal, but it had been silence and silent judgement from Huiseon that had pulled her from the edge once, and Yoongi knew that she needed that silence too. Yoongi exhaled, shakily, shivering interrupting her as she curled up in on herself. Even without the biting wind, her apartment was freezing. "Never stop being positive, yeah? Never stop smiling? Dunno what I'd do if you got as messed up as me. You're so beautiful and talented and wonderful, don't let the fears kill you like they killed me." 

Huiseon's lips twitched, before she stretched upwards and came forward to lean down over Yoongi, hands coming to rest on Yoongi's shoulders, looking heartachingly pretty, in the low light of her studio. "You know what I think? You're so tired, so angry, so bitter, even more than when we first met, huh? But you made a fucking album. You've created an album, you keep creating, faster than I can even keep up because you still love it, love music. I don't think you've lost anything. You're just stretched out thin." She made a hand gesture like she was making noodles there, which made them both snicker, for a moment. "But it's like playdoh, right? You're all here, just more....thin, more tired, more tangible. But all of you is still there. Seoul's changed you, not removed anything. People are allowed to change, to suit their environment, to survive. Don't begrudge yourself that, huh?"

Yoongi stared up at Huiseon, who had a small, soft smile over her lips, quite unlike her usual smile. It wasn't as beautiful, slightly crooked and neither enhanced nor hid her dimples, but it was entirely honest, the grudging respect she had for Yoongi and _god_ , Yoongi hadn't known how much she wanted to see Huiseon again, see her face and fall back into their dance. She pulled Huiseon down for a hug, saying nothing as she buried her face in Huiseon's shoulder. 

"I want to delete everything." said Yoongi quietly, pressing her forehead along the protruding collarbone, "Even Nayeon-ah's stuff-- Rap Goddess's stuff, that is. And it's so fucking selfish, but I want to do it anyway. I hate it all, Huiseon-ah, even when she tells me it's fine, it never feels _right_."

Huiseon pulled away and booted up Yoongi's computer, carefully, clearly forcing her eyes to be more open, as she searched for the list of the tracks. "Play me them. In the order you like." Huiseon said, hooking up her headphone. "I'll be the judge of that. I always am. You trust me, right? I'll tell you the truth."

"You're younger than me. I'm supposed to be taking care of you." Yoongi said, weakly, staring at Huiseon, who broke into a huge grin, wide and amused. 

"Ahh, Yoongi-unnie, you really think we work like that?" she said, a huge shit-eating grin spreading over hr face. "You wish. I'm clearly the more responsible and better unnie here. You might as well call me Huiseon-unnie, I'm just that--" She squeaked, in amusement and surprise, as Yoongi reached up and smacked her head with the kumamon clearfile.

"Idiot." Yoongi said, warmly, and Huiseon grinned, easily.

"Seriously though," she said, taking Nayeon's chair, to properly listen to the tracks, eyes dark and understanding, "I don't mind. I never have. You give me so much more, just by being here. Would have never gone to the initial JYP audition if you hadn't been there, if you hadn't paved the way." she said, quietly. "And it's probably embarrassing how many times your songs are on repeat on my iPod. So. It's enough. You do enough. This is the least I can do."

Yoongi blinked, stared at Huiseon's side-profile and wondered whether this was a statement she could believe. She wanted to, but yet. She didn't know, it didn't feel real, so she said nothing, just playing the first song and sitting back to study Huiseon's expressions. It was always nice to see what her friends thought of her works, to see them sway to the beat and see Huiseon rock to the beat, a slow smile spreading over her mouth, or watching the way her brow scrunched when she was upset. But yet, her presence at the side, was nothing like Nayeon. Huiseon was like cotton wool familiar and reassuring, sometimes with too much words and occasionally too smothering. Nayeon was....Nayeon was like willingly falling off a waterfall, beautiful and dangerous and awe-inspiring and all too fast-paced and yet, strangely calming, sometimes. It was different, and Yoongi couldn't help it, there was relief in her heart, despite all of that. 

"You called it Afraid of Reality?" asked Huiseon, pulling out one earbud, as she picked up the prelim sketches that Jeongmin had left here a couple of days ago. 

"Yeah." Yoongi said, softly, fingers smoothing over the sketches, the butterfly and the darkness from its wings, and the stars of hope, which Jeongmin had wanted to render in shades of pink, purple and orange, like the sunrise, on a new dawn. There had been some exchanges over symbolism, that Yoongi had only paid cursory attention to, preferring to watch Nayeon's face light up as she explained what she wanted, and see Jeongmin act completely differently in front of her idol, instead of old, normal Yoongi-unnie. It had been peaceful. "It fits, somehow."

"It does." Huiseon agreed, calmly, shutting her eyes, as she listened to some of the softer, more emotional ones, penned by Nayeon, who had this wonderful melancholy twist to her actual songs, despite the venom and fire she brought to stage, the heat and the spit-fire pace that she rarely chose to include. "Fuck." she said, softly, after some indeterminate amount of time passed, and Yoongi sat, not fidgeting or itching to do something else for one, content to just watch Huiseon react. Not like Taehui's reactions, but Yoongi had yet to met someone nearly as enthusiastic as Taehui, when greeted with something she loved. 

Finally, Huiseon pulled the earbuds out and exhaled, low and unsteady. "Unnie." Huiseon said, voice a little cracked and hoarse, as she ducked her head and laughed, shakily. "Fuck. Unnie. Really. You don't have to do anything, change anything. You're all done. It's all perfect. Heavy, though." And with that, she surged forward to pull Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi buried her face back in Huiseon's shoulder, patting and rubbing her back, playing with the edges of her hair, just like Huiseon liked. 

Huiseon was obviously trying to hold back tears, and well, as much as Yoongi was a little concerned, it had done something. It was strong enough to make Huiseon cry (even though it wasn't saying _that_ much, Huiseon was a bit of a crybaby, delicate despite everything) and that let something warm and soft blossom up inside her. Something that felt similar to contentment, close to happiness, as if she was actually ready to release the tracks, if Huiseon could react like this. How the hell did Huiseon always manage to do this, make Yoongi feel stronger and more confident? It probably wasn't fair that people had that sort of power over her. 

"Sweetheart..." Yoongi said, softly, as Huiseon pulled away, with a heavy sniffle. "It's almost over." she said, feeling something close to wondrous. "Sometimes the rain stops, breaks for a bit, and it's the most beautiful thing. And the clouds get more and more intermittent, as I keep living and keep growing. One day, I'm going to be perfectly okay. Not yet, but I will be. This is just....a reminder. Of when it was bad. Not like. A living testament of now. I have more important things now. Like that fucking squeaky door. Or feeding myself." 

"Okay." Huiseon, said, gently. "If you're sure about that."

Yoongi nodded, letting a slow smile twitch across her lips, not even having a little bit of cold left in her, not in this moment, not when Huiseon was like this. It would come back, surely, it was a certainty, but maybe the next storm wouldn't be as bad. "Seoul's a soulsucker. But can't deny the opportunities you get here. Can't deny it in the fucking slightest. And even though it might not seem it, people do give a shit about talent. So. Even if you aren't the sort of stunning that everyone wants to see, you're beautiful to me. And you're the best dancer that JYP could ever hope to find. So you'll do good, kid."

Huiseon sniffled. "Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." And it wasn't acceptance of her own gifts, not an erasal of her anxiety. But they were both trying and starting. And okay. Maybe just this once, it was okay to indulge, okay to let herself have some freetime away from music and away from work. Just to sit here and smile at Huiseon, helplessly, to muse about how Nayeon would take the news that their album was done. Would she smile, would she laugh, would she be alright? She didn't know.

But she wanted to. And that was alright. It was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is still coming along slowly, no lie, but it will be done. I have a plan and know what's happening, but i've been diverted by other things: namely alpaca jin fic exchange which I ran! It's an amazing collection of awesome fics and reveals are tomorrow, so check it out if you haven't already! 
> 
> come and scream to me about themes in yoongi's mixtape if you want to, or about feminism in kpop in general at tumblr @arysthaeniru or at Twitter @Arysthae. Kudos and comments are much appreciated, y'all


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason for the delay on this chapter can be found on my profile and is called “86k of overdedication to jinmin: the ultimate otp” as well as “38k jinkook dystopia au” AND whatever mystery secret santa story i’m writing, ahem. But yeah, exchange season is drawing to a close and so is this fic, with this being the penultimate chapter! I’ve been overwhelmed and touched by the responses and comments I’ve gotten over the past couple of chapters, _thank you_ so much! We almost hit 200 kudos and that’s such a great achievement! I hope this chapter satisfies, I’ve been very anxious about this, since it’s been a while since I’ve touched this story. 
> 
> It's a really long chapter, if it makes up for my super long absence?
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and behavior, and some self-destructive habits.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, Nayeon only half cognizant of what was going on, as if separated from the world by a thin sliver of cotton wool, muffling everything except the most basic of acknowledgment of what was happening. Yoongi pulling her home, arm firmly around Nayeon's waist to support her and stop her from tripping over. Yoongi pushing Nayeon down on her couch and bandaging up Nayeon's hands and knees awkwardly, after dousing her in a thick layer of antiseptic cream, cigarette stick wobbling in her mouth. Yoongi awkwardly offering Nayeon her a t-shirt and too-short trackpants to sleep in, Yoongi shoving Nayeon to the corner of her double bed, tossing aside the extra cushions, to curl up under the covers with her, a reassuring hand resting on Nayeon's waist.

Nayeon didn't quite remember falling asleep, but it was dark when she woke up again, pulled into the world of the living by a loud beeping alarm, blasting Girls Generation. "Huh?" Nayeon asked, stupidly, as Yoongi rolled away from her side. (Snuggling? Yoongi had been spooning her?)

"Go back to sleep, Yeon-ah, it's 4:30." Yoongi said, voice almost like rocks against gravel, cracked with sleep. 

"But--"

"I got work. Be back later, yeah? Sleep a bit more." Yoongi said, firmly, as she stumbled away towards her bathroom, cursing indistinctly.

For a moment, Nayeon thought about getting up and joining Yoongi, but quickly decided the numbness of sleep was much preferable than pretending to be normal again, and so went back to bed without any compliant.

When she woke again, the sun was in her eyes, through the hazy curtains, and she was almost about to fall off the end of the bed. With a slightly panicked roll, Nayeon righted her position and stared at her feet, in a mixture of confusion and sheer sleepiness. Her dreams had been nothing but a thick black darkness, comforting in its, something odd when most of her sleep were filled with vivid flights of fantasy, and she couldn’t help but feel grateful for that.

Blinking herself awake, Nayeon pushed herself up and looked around her sleepily. Yoongi’s bed. Where they had been snuggling the night before? Nayeon felt her face flush immediately, recalling just how close Yoongi had been tucked into her chest that morning, how her blonde hair had brushed against the swell of Nayeon’s boobs and exactly how bleary and cute she’d looked, even through Nayeon’s sleepy haze. 

Fuck. Nayeon didn’t romanticize domesticity all too much, there was a time and place for that and it was _not_ for young people with huge ambitions that towered above the clouds and the capacity to push themselves to reach that desire, but she couldn’t help but feel a warm burst of happiness through her chest, anyway. It was the sort of happiness that everybody wanted later, for when their bodies couldn’t be physically pushed to their limits anymore, the sort of thing for after money and ambitions had been reached, to wake up with someone curled up next to them, with a cute smile, and even though it had been a glimpse of a future that may or may not happen, it had been soft and it had been something that Nayeon wouldn’t mind all too much. 

Still thinking about it absently, Nayeon automatically reached over the end of the bed to rummage through her clothes for her phone and clicked it open, before stopping still at the sheer _volume_ of missed calls and messages that filled her phone’s notifications. 26 missed calls from her mother, 6 missed calls from her sister, 10 missed calls from her father and almost 100 messages on her Kakaotalk. Nayeon blinked, for a moment, before she tentatively opened her kakaotalk, watching the Ryan screen fade away.

50 messages from her family, all of which she ignored. 25 messages from Jimin, which she opened after a moment of consideration.

 **Jimin the cutest, most wonderful dongsaeng**  
Unnie, where did you go, your parents are freaking out? [23:12]  
Unnie? [23:30]  
They’re seriously freaking out [23:45]  
Your mom’s downstairs and sobbing about something to my mom. [23:45]  
Please reply to me unnie, it’s past midnight and nobody knows where you are. [00:04]  
We just want to know you’re okay? [00:05]  
Unnie? [00:07]  
I miss you. [00:07]  
Why aren’t you picking up your sister’s calls? [00:10]  
I’m really worried now, asshole, where the hell are you? [00:13]  
I’m gonna rip up the english notes you gave me unless you reply to me. [00:15]  
It says you’re getting these messages even if you aren’t reading them, what the fuck are you doing? [00:23]  
I didn’t rip up the papers. I want to though, what’s going on? You always reply to me. [00:27]  
I’m scared and I hate it. Please reply soon. [00:32]  
I don’t want you to think you’re dead, did someone hurt you at the club? [00:34]  
Is this in the hands of an EMT? [00:35]  
I’m sorry for spamming the phone, sir, but i’m an emergency contact? [00:38]  
I have to be an emergency contact. You put me as your emergency contact right, Unnie? Not Jinsol-unnie? Or Donghyuk-oppa? [00:40]  
If you put oppa as your emergency contact over me, I’m gonna hurt you. [00:41]  
No lie. [00:41]  
He doesn’t deserve it, unnie. [00:41]  
He might have known you for longer, but i’m your cute dongsaeng. [00:45]  
And I’m more responsible, and more clean looking and I know how to act in emergencies. He just goes pale and pretends that he knows what he’s doing (he doesn’t) [00:47]  
I’m just talking to myself. Call me in the morning, or i’ll make you regret it. [00:48]  
They just explained what happened. Stay lost for as long as you want to be, unnie. They don’t deserve it. I won’t say a word. [2:48]

Nayeon couldn’t help but feel her lips twitch upwards, as she finished the litany of messages. God, but she loved Jimin sometimes. 

**Me**  
i’m okay, babe. thank you for worrying for me [11:34]  
btw, you and Jinsol-unnie are _totally_ my ICE contacts [11:35]  
don’t tell my mom I replied to you? Need some time still. [11:35]

Nayeon was about to leave Jimin’s chatroom, when the response pinged back, quickly. 

**Jimin the cutest, most wonderful dongsaeng**  
I won’t say anything, unnie. [11:35]  
don’t come back around here though [11:35]  
my mom’s keeping a lookout for you and she wants you back home to solve your argument. She agrees with your mum, so i’m not talking to her for the rest of the day, icb... [11:37]  
the police haven’t been called yet, but they might get called soon, so yeah. [11:38]  
Love you, unnie, stay safe [11:38]

Nayeon nodded to herself, grimly, grateful for the information. Jimin always knew what would be useful like that, pragmatic when it was necessary. She flicked over back to her messages. There were a few messages from her other schoolfriends, Jackson and Jinyoung and Sohee and Bora, wondering if everything was okay, let them know. These, Nayeon ignored, they weren’t the sort of close where she could trust them to hide her from her parents. Instead, she clicked on the single message from Donghyuk. 

**Idiot Chicken Bastard**  
i know where you’re at, saw you two walking away. won’t tell anybody, but stay downlow so it makes my life easier. stay safe, use protection ;P [00:26]

Nayeon flushed, and rolled her eyes immediately, this _idiot_. 

**Me**  
You’re a bitch, know that? [11:42]

There was no response, but Nayeon hadn’t really been expecting one. She was grateful anyway. No messages from DNH, thankfully, which meant her parents really didn’t know very much about her underground rapping activities, and nothing from police or relatives. So it was still relatively small as far as missing child crises went. Okay. Well, that made life a little easier. 

Noticing the low battery on her phone and the distinct lack of charger around her, Nayeon turned it to power-saving mode and turned off the screen, as she moved out of bed and across to Yoongi’s desk and the kitchen, hopping slightly from the chill of the floorboards underneath her, _ouch_ , it was cold. She quickly ducked her head into the sink and splashed her face with water to feel a little less gross and a little more awake, even though the cold stung at her face, bitterly. As she rubbed at her teeth with her fingers, to remove the feeling of her mouth being as dry as the Sahara, she noticed something on the table. 

She moved over, blearily rubbing at bandages self-consciously, and blinked. There was a note, next to a piece of toast which had jam spread along it in the shape of a smiley face. Nayeon paused and snickered, slowly to herself, as she unfolded the letter.

_Yo, I don’t know if you remember this morning or not, but don’t freak out because the apartment is empty, I had to head off to work, otherwise they’d fire me._

_I’m really sorry. You can stay here as long as you’d like, you know, if you don’t mind being a bit cramped and all. I’ll be out until 5, so grab lunch yourself somewhere, but I left you breakfast. Mi casa es su casa, I guess._

_Yoongi_

Nayeon smiled to herself, chomping down on the toast, unable to feel quite as amused as she should have been at the fact that _Yoongi_ had left her a smiley face toast bread like she was five. The fact of the matter was that it was really cute and a real effort by Yoongi, and even if it was ridiculous, it was the sort of endearing ridiculous that Nayeon didn’t really know what to do with. 

So instead she looked around her, ignoring the swoop in her stomach. Her bundle of clothes was still at the edge of Yoongi’s bed (Yoongi had helped her undress yesterday, after physically yanking the broken hunk of synthesizer from out of her hands, and any other day, Nayeon would have made the absolute _most_ of the memory of Yoongi’s small callused hands tugging off her shirt, but it only made her feel a little weird today), but Nayeon knew she needed something else. A skirt, pleather jacket and a rumpled shirt wasn’t going to be enough for a couple more days, especially not for how cold the weather was getting, and she needed a shower too. 

The shower she could take here, she knew, Yoongi wouldn’t mind, and the thought of smelling like Yoongi’s sharp lemon scent and showering where Yoongi had, would probably be something close to a religious experience, but it still wouldn’t solve her clothing problem. Yoongi’s baggy t-shirts were a little tight on her and her jeans too tight and too short. 

Donghyuk had her spare clothes at his house, tucked into the highest shelf, just as she had half a drawer of his clothes in the corner of her room (collateral damage of being best friends for so long), but since Donghyuk lived down the road from her place, that was like asking for trouble, as _much_ as she wanted to crash in his bedroom and maybe cry at him a bit. And although some of DNH’s clothes would fit her, especially Ikje who was almost her height, she didn’t particularly want to go to them. She’d spent far too long trying to build up a reputation as a sassy, smooth-talking fellow rapper who didn’t need help because of her gender. All of that would come crashing down if she went seeking a shower and clothes from them and she wasn’t eager to invite that upon her head. 

And then the answer hit her, and Nayeon kicked herself for being stupid, because it was obvious. Slipping on her old clothes and cursing her lack of socks and real shoes, and pulling her tangled hair into something vaguely a bun, Nayeon pushed out into the cold streets. She took the shortcut around the backs of the buildings, ducking through the alleyways with experiences, and pulled out her phone, once she had no choice but to use the main road. 

**Me, 11:58**  
Unnie, I’m heading out to grab lunch, so don’t worry if I’m not at your house 

**Gloss Goddess, 12:05**  
ok  
you feeling okay?

 **Me, 12:06**  
will be after a shower  
i think.  
thank you.  
for everything. 

**Gloss Goddess, 12:07**  
it’s the least i can do.  
don’t thank me. 

Nayeon tucked her phone away, and smiled to herself, the small spread of warmth spreading through her abdomen at the thought of Yoongi texting with such prominent worry in her tone, as she drew up close to the college campus and pulled up to a familiar address, knocking three times. 

The door swung open, and Gukjoo peered her head out, grinning as she recognized Nayeon and reached forward to poke her bun, with amusement. “Yo.” she said, letting her in, “You’re in luck, Jinnie’s actually home for once.”

Nayeon laughed, easily, ducking away from Gukjoo trying to poke her bun. “Unnie?” she called, kicking off her shoes, and carefully moving into Jinsol’s bedroom. Jinsol, whose hair was pulled up into a towel-bun from where she sat folded on her bed in front of her laptop, gaped at Nayeon and Gukjoo who followed after her, carefully. 

“Nayeon-ah, what happened?” she said, coming up to her quickly, tossing her laptop aside to pull Nayeon into a warm, reassuring hug, “You look like a mess...”

“I really need to borrow some clothes? And maybe take a shower?” asked Nayeon, burying her face into Jinsol’s neck and breathing in the clean, flowery smell that she’d always associated with Jinsol, the thing that helped further her reputation as Nayeon’s most caring and helping friend. 

“Of course, babe.” Jinsol said, pulling away, to run a thumb against one of the bandages against Nayeon’s hands. “We have some spare bandages in the cupboard, you should pull these off after the shower and we can disinfect them and wrap them up again...” she said, her face growing more than a little concerned. “Was it—did you get ambushed?”

“It’s a long story.” Nayeon said, ducking her head. “Could I get that shower first?”

Jinsol nodded, firmly, pushing up to rummage in her small wardrobe for a towel and a simple jumper and jeans, as Gukjoo grabbed another smaller towel for Nayeon’s hair. “Use my shampoo and conditioner, Jinsol’s only works for her because her hair is already luscious like a goddess.” Gukjoo called out, with a low laugh, ignoring the slap across the arm that Jinsol gave her.

Gukjoo was a funny girl, that much Nayeon remembered from previous meetings with Jinsol’s roommate, so Nayeon smiled, softly, even if she couldn’t quite bring herself to respond with the teasing comments she usually would. Even if Gukjoo couldn’t see that something was wrong, though, Jinsol clearly could, and the elder girl frowned, softly, before pushing Nayeon into her bathroom and leaving the area. The muttering under her breath about something or the other faded away, though the fury was audible, even through the wooden door.

Nayeon slowly pivoted on her heel, until she faced the long mirror next to the toilet, and stared at her reflection for a moment, the limp way her hair hung against her cheeks, the slightly rumpled mess of her clothes and the way that the bandages across her cheek and arms made her look. _Fuck_ , she looked like she’d been beat up badly, like she’d been completely pummeled in some fight, especially with the way her face almost drooped with exhaustion and regret. She poked her cheek, disbelievingly for a moment, before stripping and gingerly pushing herself into the shower.

For a moment, the hot water against her face was painful, before it settled into a more comfortable level of pain, and Nayeon stared up at the ceiling for a few moments.

All of her music was gone. All of the stupid tracks she’d written with Donghyuk and Hyosang the first time they’d gotten a hold of weed, the things she’d messed around with during middle school exam season, the stuff she’d wrote in all earnest for her auditions and failed with, the little riffs that seized her in the middle of studying, the initial versions of the songs she’d suggested to Yoongi, the tracks that would never see the daylight, songs she’d promised herself to edit and had never gotten around to doing, the songs that had been well on their way to being significant. All gone. 

And she wanted to cry again at the thought, but there was so much water around her and not enough water in her, that Nayeon only succeeded in pulling an ugly face and choking back a wretched sob, against Jinsol and Gukjoo’s blindingly white tiles. 

But even now, there was a beat thrumming through her head, an inappropriately cheery beat for the thoughts beating through her skull, and Nayeon knew that even if the loss of her creativity hurt hurt, even if the erasure of everything she had been was painful, she remembered enough of the recent songs to be able to recreate them and edit out the flaws she hadn’t gotten around to doing during the first trial batch, and there were enough new songs dancing around in her brain to be able to replace what she had lost. She could recover from this, even if it meant that her creating time was slower, even if it meant that writer’s block couldn’t be so easily filled with a snippet of a melody or beat from a random inspiration the other day, even if it meant that it would be a little harder, she hadn’t lost herself. Hadn’t lost her music. Not yet. 

She’d have to save up for new equipment, probably spend more time in Hyosang and Yoongi’s studios than she’d ever done before, and beg to sit in Donghyuk’s room and record, even as his mother got on his back for not studying. But she had less pride than most people, and she could get past this, even if the ache in her chest was still raw, and the cuts across her face were still stinging. 

She had to get past this. She couldn’t live without music, that much she knew, instinctively, automatically, as if it was already part of her internal programming, part of her DNA, that music was what sustained her and made her human. She had already made her choice and her gamble and she had chosen music over her filial pride by walking out of the door with her synthesizer in hand. 

Nayeon shut her eyes, took a deep breath in, around the water tumbling over her head and exhaled. A new day. A new chapter. A new start. She could do it. 

As much as she wanted to stay in Jinsol’s shower for longer, and let the water tumble around her, a soothing waterfall for the meandering, slow build-up of thoughts of how to keep walking, she knew that she was a guest here and was already imposing in Jinsol’s apartment. She had arrived without warning and asked for a lot of things, so Nayeon quickly poured out shampoo, conditioner and body lotion, going as quickly as she could, and turned off the water. She exited the shower feeling a little more human, even if the cuts over her palms had started bleeding again, the flimsy bandages that Yoongi had attached on the previous night, having fallen off in the shower.

Gukjoo waved from where she sat on the couch, watching some drama on their television that Nayeon couldn't recognize. Before Nayeon could even ask, Gukjoo pointed up in the direction of the kitchen. "She's making lunch." Gukjoo said, not even looking away from the image of Lee Minho trying to terrorize some poor girl onscreen into a romance. 

Nayeon laughed, and quickly trailed into the kitchen, where Jinsol was chopping up vegetables, and scooping them into what looked like a huge pot of stew. "Can I...uhh..help?" asked Nayeon, hanging awkwardly in the hallway.

"No, you'll bleed all over the food, and that would be a waste of perfectly good vegetables." Jinsol said, with a laugh, looking up at Nayeon. "Wash your hands again, and grab the bandages, they're in the drawer under the microwave. I'll wrap you up in a second, let me just let this simmer." With her long brown hair loosely tied up into a bun, house slippers squeaking against the tiled floor, and a pink apron tied over her chest, Jinsol looked the picture of the cute cook from a lot of dramas. Nayeon watched her idly, from the corner of her eye, and smiled, softly. 

Jinsol was beautifully complicated, and Nayeon loved watching her, no matter what she did. If you only saw Jinsol in the clubs, it would be easy to dismiss her as a ditzy clubbing addict, a doenjang girl, so-to-say [1]. If you only saw Jinsol in her home, you would think of her as the cute housewife, the absentminded cutie that was a typical drama lead. If you only saw Jinsol in her classes, she would be the studious class representative, responsible and kind to everybody like an elder sister should be. And if you saw her in theatre club, you would be terrified for your lives, because she was a tyrant about how things were supposed to be and what the audience were supposed to feel. Men couldn't always understand that about women, couldn't understand facets and sides and nuances about women, how masks could be pulled on and off, but that was why Nayeon was there instead, especially for women who were genuinely complicated like Jinsol was. 

It was why Nayeon had initially fallen for Jinsol, the first time that Nayeon had met her in her freshman year, at their posh private school. Jinsol had just been someone who slipped so fluidly between her different identities, who both complied with and defied the standards that women were supposed to exist underneath. And she’d been a puzzle that Nayeon couldn’t wait to solve, and somehow that had turned into the sort of affection that had been both beautiful and poisonous. And it wasn't like Nayeon didn't think that Jinsol wasn't that anymore: if anything, she had managed to decipher more small nuances of Jinsol’s personality, all depending on who she was with, but Nayeon’s vision wasn't clouded by romance anymore. Jinsol was just Jinsol, and it was weird to see her as a beautiful woman, and not subconsciously feel a slight twinge of melancholy that she hadn't asked Jinsol out before Hyosang had. 

Jinsol turned off the heat, with a sigh of relief. "Scoot, Yeonie." she murmured, and Nayeon moved to the side, so Jinsol could carefully place the steaming pot of noodle soup in the centre of the table. "Okay, it's nothing big, just a whole bunch of leftover vegetables with noodles--"

"--but still better than what I was _going_ to eat." Nayeon said, with a low laugh, waving it off. "Thank you so much." 

Jinsol knelt down, carefully tugging the bandages from Nayeon's hands, carefully working around Nayeon's hands with a grace that Yoongi rarely ever had, with a slow smile aimed upwards, which Nayeon returned, softly. "Hey, how's that hangover doing, then?" she asked, slyly, and Jinsol just giggled, proudly.

"Non-existent." she said, tying a firm knot on the edge of Nayeon's palm, "Unlike you and Donghyuk, I know how to pace myself and eat inbetween my drinks." There was a smug look on her face, as she winked up. Nayeon laughed as well, but Jinsol quickly sobered up, as her fingers ran over the smaller white scratches all over Nayeon's upper arms, fingers light yet probing. "Nayeonie."

Nayeon shifted, uncomfortably, and dropped off the table. "Can we eat first, unnie?" she asked, gently, kneeling down properly, and Jinsol frowned, contemplatively, before nodding, padding back towards the kitchen to get chopsticks, spoons and bowls, as Nayeon adjusted the tablecloth.

"Yah, Gukjoo, grab your food!" Jinsol yelled out towards the kitchen, "Then you can finish your drama."

"I'm dieting Jinnie! Just pack me the leftovers for dinner!" Gukjoo yelled back, and Jinsol clicked her tongue, but let it go, just pouring soup for Nayeon and herself, before clearing a little bit of space next to the table, where the papers, takeout boxes, tupperware containers and half-eaten snack bags lay messily, so they could both sit comfortably at the table. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Jinsol said, with a dainty laugh, “ _Someone_ doesn’t know how to clean up.” Her eyes darted towards the living room and there was a distinctly murderous look in her brown eyes, “Gukjoo used to be afraid of me, but then she saw me lipsyncing to Big Bang in my underwear, and she’s never respected me the same way again and never cleans her shit. _See if I ever ask for you as a roommate again!_ ” Jinsol yelled her last words towards the living room and Nayeon muffled a snicker into her spoon, at the vague shout of ‘fuck off’ that came from the couch. 

“You could clean it yourself?” suggested Nayeon, but Jinsol gave Nayeon one of those looks, and Nayeon immediately fell quiet, and started to shovel more noodles into her face, looking as earnest as possible. 

“See. Hyosang. Now Hyosang actually cleans up the shit he leaves around here, and he doesn’t even _live_ here.” Jinsol said, rolling her eyes, as she speared a small mouthful of noodles into her mouth, archly blowing on them. “What I would do for an obedient dongsaeng as a roommate instead. Like you or Jiminie, but no, I’m stuck with Gukjoo.” 

“You could just move in with him. I know his apartment is a bit far from the university, but he has room, especially for his girlfriend.” Nayeon suggested, with a shrug, “He’s the only one of us who gets a proper job and paycheck and uses it sensibly.” 

Jinsol’s smile became fixed on her face, an unmistakeable freeze in place. But immediately, she kept smiling again and kept eating again, with a low laugh that was amusedly dismissive. “My lease with Gukjoo is for the next three years, I couldn’t even if I actually wanted to exchange my lazy lump of a best friend.” She turned a fond look towards the living room, before ducking her head back towards her food, humming appreciatively. 

Nayeon almost thought she was genuine but well. Nayeon had caught that look, and didn’t really know what to do with it. Nayeon chewed contemplatively on her noodles and frowned. “Unnie, he didn’t do anything, did he? You and he are going fine?...Did he say something? _Hurt you_? I’ll kill him, I really will--”

“Nothing like that.” Jinsol said, and her smile was so beautiful. “It’s nothing, though I am immensely flattered by how quick you are to spring to my defense, it’s very flattering.” And Nayeon almost believed her, but then she almost dropped her chopsticks into the water as she tried fish out a second helping of noodles, and well. It was too clumsy for her. Jinsol was sometimes awkward, especially when she was trying to figure out which part of her personality was best applicable for the situation, but she wasn’t _clumsy_.

“Unnie.” Nayeon said, seriously, placing her chopsticks on top of her bowl, seriously, “What happened? Did he do anything?”

Jinsol exhaled, and there was something somewhat hesitant in her eyes, but she too mirrored Nayeon’s gesture, mouth twisting up into an uncomfortable pout on the side of her face. “It’s just—I don’t think our relationship is that serious. To warrant _moving in with him_.” she said, quietly, “And I don’t particularly want to be that sort of person, stuck somewhere I don’t like. It’s early. I’m in my first year of college.”

Nayeon blinked, for a few moments trying to process what she was hearing in slow silence. Jinsol and Hyosang’s relationship had always been something of a constant, from the moment that Nayeon had introduced them in her second year, and watched them fall into each others’ orbits. To hear the fact that Jinsol didn’t think of it like that….a slowly cold realization filled her chest. She doubted that this was something she’d have seen before Yoongi had happened. But well, things were different now. Nayeon loved Jinsol, but there were no rose-tinted glasses of a crush blocking her ability to reason anymore. 

Hyosang loved her thoroughly, would do anything for her. But well. Between Nayeon and Jinsol, there had always been sly jokes about how his best quality was how he was in bed. Nayeon had always taken it as simple teasing, the sort of teasing that was a little too harsh between friends and lovers, but something really cold was starting to set into her chest. 

She scoffed and shook her head, loosely. “He takes this seriously, unnie. He takes you really seriously, and you’d better owe him the respect of doing the goddamn same, or just break up with him.” Her voice was quieter now, but no less fierce as she leant forward, “You’re my friend, unnie, but so’s he, and I’ll be the one to fight you if you break his heart by dragging this along or being cruel.”

Jinsol stared at Nayeon and nodded, stiffly, clearly taking her threat seriously. “It’s not that I don’t like him.” she said, softly, “He’s a good friend and boyfriend. But there are moments...” Jinsol trailed off, and shrugged. “Does he really understand me? Value me? Respect me for more than sex? Respect me _as_ a woman? I don’t know. I can’t tell. Some days I think I can see it, other times I can’t. And then there are days I just want to flirt and fool around and be young and he holds me back.” Jinsol shrugged, and picked up her chopsticks. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to tug him around either, he deserves better. I’m still figuring it out.” 

Nayeon frowned suspiciously and Jinsol rolled her eyes. “You can’t tell me you’re the same person you were a year and a half ago right now, Nayeon.” Jinsol said, firmly, swallowing a huge mouthful of soup. “People change. I’m just trying to figure if Hyosang and I changed together or grew apart. It’s not important.” 

“Just be honest with him.” Nayeon said, shaking her head, “Like. Have a real conversation about all of this and you can figure it out together. That’s not a hard thing.” 

Jinsol snorted. “Yes, because our relationship is based on _communication_ ” she said, with a low laugh and a curled upper lip. Nayeon couldn’t hold back let the bitter snort that escaped her mouth, looking at Jinsol, who looked bitter and frustrated, and wondered what had happened. “Just, look. Can’t we forget this for now? It’s not urgent. We can talk about it later. Your injuries _are_ urgent. Especially since you came all the way across town without real clothes, asking for a shower.” 

Nayeon would have pressed further on the issue (because a perfect couple couldn’t be a couple that didn’t understand each other), but that was a slight throatiness to Jinsol’s voice that Nayeon had only heard from the elder girl once in her life, and that had been right before she’d had a nervous breakdown over her practise test for the entrance exams last year. So, in the excuse of avoiding the sort of thing that Jinsol hated the most, Nayeon subsided, and picked moodily at the remnants of the vegetables in the noodle soup. 

There was a slightly frosty silence in the kitchen, before Nayeon exhaled, and let her chopsticks drop into the water. She wasn’t very hungry anymore, not really. “I just--”

“Thought it was perfect?” asked Jinsol, and there was a tired look to her face, “Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t say anything before.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement, but Jinsol just smiled, forcedly, and picked up her bowl to put in the sink, clearly turning her back on the conversation and Nayeon dropped it, with a soft sigh of resigned annoyance. She knew when to accept defeat in the face of Jinsol’s masterful use of guilt-trip. She’d chase Jinsol up on it later. 

“Now,” Jinsol murmured, turning around, “How the _hell_ did you manage to get yourself that injured? It certainly wasn’t that way when I left you at the club. Did Yoo--”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” grumbled Nayeon, crossing her arms over her chest, “It _definitely_ wasn’t Yoongi-unnie. Stop projecting.”

Jinsol shrugged, untying the apron around her middle and tossing it aside. “You came here first thing in your morning, with cuts everywhere, asking for a shower, instead of going to Yoongi. I was just guessing.” 

Nayeon shook her head. “Your clothes are closer to fitting me.” she murmured, tugging at the ends of the sweatshirt, tugging it out over her fingers. “I slept over at Yoongi’s house last night, but I didn’t have any warm clothing that would fit, and she’s got work...”

Jinsol’s eyes shone, in understanding. “So your parents then?” she asked, gently, settling down at the table and carefully taking Nayeon’s hands into her own. 

“My mom.” Nayeon said miserably, not quite squeezing Jinsol’s hands, but half-curling her fingers, with the intention of doing so instead. “It was. Not quite her fault. I guess. She just. Found out why I wasn’t going to cram school. And got mad, and I sorta. Probably. Definitely made her madder by talking back. And then she tossed my synth and my mics and my speakers down the stairs at me. And they bounced, and I tried to catch them and fix them. And well.” She shrugged self-consciously, feeling the small lump in her throat start to grow as she thought about it. But she swallowed and forced herself to keep her voice steady. There had been enough self-pitying crying.

Jinsol cooed, softly, reaching out to stroke down Nayeon’s slightly damp hair. “Hey, hey. Even if you said some stupid shit, physical action was uncalled for.” she said, gently, “It’s a good thing you walked away from them, I wouldn’t have trusted them to keep looking after you, last night.”

Nayeon swallowed heavily and smiled up at Jinsol nervously. “I know. I’m glad I left too. I would have said something even worse if I’d stayed, I think. Or got more hurt. I’m just. I don’t have any music tracks left and that really hurts.” 

Jinsol’s lips twisted upwards, helplessly. “I don’t know how that feels,” she said, cautiously, “But I’m really sorry. You can make them again, right?”

“Some of the newer ones, probably. And all of the stuff for Yoongi-unnie’s album was already finished anyway, and published, which was good, I guess. It’s just. Like somebody burning together a scrapbook of all of your shows you’ve been collecting since you were fourteen? It doesn’t mean they didn’t happen, but the record’s gone.” Nayeon offered. Jinsol made a sympathetic noise from the back of her throat and Nayeon looked down. “I don’t know what to do unnie. I’ve been trying for so long to get them to accept my love for music and it’s like they just. Smashed everything I’ve been aspiring to make them accept about me, not just my music.”

Somehow, the part where she’d run away, and her mother had called her entire friendgroup to try and find her again, didn’t escape Nayeon’s lips, but that was one thing she didn’t really want to tell Jinsol, not when Jinsol had the most supportive parents in the world.

Jinsol hummed again, softly in thought. “Well. I’m sorry, for one. That really sucks. But life’s pretty awful in general, so there’s that too.” She flashed Nayeon one of her cute smiles, and it suited her persona so perfectly that Nayeon could almost see her go on to kiss Lee Minho, or another one of those drama actors. “But I think? You know what I think? I think you haven’t fought enough for acceptance.”

Nayeon blinked at Jinsol. “What the fuck, unnie.” she said, blankly, staring at Jinsol, who’d shed all pretenses at cuteness, as she laced her fingers together and look at Nayeon over the top of them. 

“No, I’m serious.” Jinsol said, “You’ve been fighting so _fiercely_ in the world of rap. You won’t let a single person get away with insulting you and degrading women, not even your friends. But you won’t do the same for your parents.”

“If I kick my mother for making a misogynistic comment, I’ll no longer have a home or even a life, if I’m honest. Filial loyalty is a staple of our family, you know.” Nayeon said, dryly, lifting an eyebrow at Jinsol, who rolled her eyes. 

“Stop being difficult, Yeonie, you know I’m not talking about that.” Jinsol said, with an exasperated tone of voice. “I’m not saying you’re supposed to diss battle or beat up your parents, to show them that you love music, you’re just supposed to stand your ground.”

“I _have_!” Nayeon insisted, sitting up straight, “I told my mother that I would do nothing at university except music, and I got grounded for weeks, and finally, she relented and even _then_ , she only said she’d allow that if I get a full-ride scholarship to SKY with the entrance exams.” It had been a few months of pain and constant worrying and a steady stream of resentment at her parents for stopping her from achieving her ultimate desire, and she still felt like, no matter how much she loved her mother, there would _always_ be that pit in her stomach, an uncomfortable sensation that came from being dismissed because of gender. 

Jinsol looked up to the sky, as if demanding strength. “Nayeon. You’ve been telling your parents. You’ve _told_ them you’re doing music, and you’ve _told_ them that you’re going to label auditions and you’ve told them you love music. When have you actually _showed_ them your skills? When have you showed them your tracks, your connections, your skill? Do they know you’re winning every monthly freestyle rap contest here? Do they know that every rapper worth their salt knows your name? Do they know that your vision and skill constantly inspires people like me every single day?” Jinsol’s eyes were fierce as she leant forward, and this was the Jinsol that both terrified Nayeon and motivated her, even when she felt entirely low. “And you’re forgetting. The art of compromise has _always_ been best mastered by women. How are you making this deal sweet for them? Why should they support you without seeing potential return investments in you? You’re the person who’ll be looking after them when they’re old, how are you going to get the money to do that? You haven’t told them _anything_ about your plans and your fame and why you’re so confident. All they can see is you attempting something mad, something unheard of for a woman, something that will ruin your family’s future.” 

Nayeon stared at Jinsol, as the elder girl pushed back the strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun, looking a little calmer. “Nayeonie. I know your parents. They love you and are proud of you. They want the best for you. You have to show them that music is the best thing for you, not just tell them. This isn’t the same situation as my parents, right? I was average at everything except acting and literature, so they were willing to support my acting career, especially since my oppa did something sensible like business. You’re the eldest daughter, genius level IQ, who could be absolutely anything in the world that she wanted to be. Make it worth their while to support you.”

Nayeon blinked, slow and steady, as she processed. A lot of what Jinsol had said was true. And even though Nayeon was furious and sad and empty, she knew that she did still love her parents, despite it all. And she knew that she wanted to make them proud, wanted them to support her with what she was doing, it was why she had spent so much time trying to please them. “Maybe.” said Nayeon softly, “I have to think about it.”

Jinsol nodded, gracefully. “It’s not at all easy to do it, not at all. But I don’t think you can move forward without that. Either you walk away from them entirely, or you make it worth their while. And I think the second option is much less damaging to you and to them.” 

It was strange, sometimes, to get explicit advice from Jinsol. Nayeon had learnt a lot from watching Jinsol navigate the world and feel her way into the tendrils of space where she would shine the best, but it was quite something else to have a conclusion forced upon you. One of the things Nayeon had always sort of vaguely resented about school, even among all the new information she’d wanted to learn, had been how people had pushed their conclusions into your face without letting you come to your own. But it was weird and sort of nice to see a potential solution here, from Jinsol’s sweet, flawed mouth, when Nayeon felt most tired. 

She felt a lot older somehow, as she stared down at Jinsol and nodded. “Okay.” she said, because there was nothing else to say, and the air lightened somehow. Nayeon hadn’t even noticed how heavy it had felt around her lungs, for some time. 

Jinsol smiled at her, small and soft. “You’re heading back to Yoongi’s now?” she asked, getting up from her chair, to turn off the ventilator on the stove fan and stare at the large amount of leftovers. 

“Yeah,” Nayeon said, hovering behind her awkwardly, “She comes back from work at like fiveish, so I have some time to wander around or something. But I don’t have a phone charger, so maybe I’ll go to a PC Bang and charge up...” The prospect of going there was not very attractive: she’d never been very fond of video games, even though she sort of understood their appeal to some people, and the PC Bang was filled of teenagers who were great at catcalling and general harassment. But desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Jinsol hummed softly, as she stirred the stew. “Good call.” she said, with a smile. “You really like her, huh?” 

Nayeon shrugged, feeling the grin extend over her face, almost involuntarily, automatically, at just the thought of Yoongi and her beautiful thin face and the slightly pinched expression she had whenever she was deep in thought. “Yeah. And for once, I think she likes me back too. Healthier than usual, huh?”

Jinsol laughed, brushing back the stray strands of hair from her slightly damp neck, “I think she likes you, too, Yeonie. She couldn’t take her eyes off you yesterday when you were rapping, you know?” Jinsol’s voice dropped lower, in that tone she used for cute things, half-patronizing, half-genuinely-happy and just the sheer thought of Yoongi watching Nayeon with that sort of intensity, the same intensity when they’d first met, sent shivers down Nayeon’s spine. She could almost feel the cool, lidded eyes of Yoongi’s feline features staring Nayeon down, with both appraisal and challenge and god, it was probably disturbing how warm she’d become just at the sheer thought of it. 

“I’m glad.” Nayeon said, with a wider grin to herself. “I want to love her if she’ll let me.” 

Jinsol smiled, and there was an edge to it and Nayeon didn’t quite recognize, but this time, Nayeon didn’t pry, even if her curiousity tugged at the boundaries of her mind. Not today, anyway. Another day, perhaps, when she felt less like the world meant her harm. Jinsol ducked her head quietly, sniffing the stew. “Yeonie, want to take this back with you?”

“If there’s enough for two people, that’s great.” Nayeon agreed. She would never pass up on a chance to eat Jinsol’s cooking, honestly, and the warm smile she received from Jinsol in return was absolutely wonderful. Things weren’t completely okay, not really, but it felt like she could handle it now, and that was. Strange. It felt weird to stand here and have gained strength from seeing that she no longer was in love with Jinsol and no longer thought that her friend had gained the perfect relationship on her second try. Felt weird, but nice anyway.

She awkwardly slid her fingers onto Jinsol’s elbow and squeezed. Jinsol smiled, and pressed up to her tiptoes to kiss Nayeon’s forehead. “Stay safe, my sweetheart, okay? You know you can always come back here, even if I’m not around, okay? If Gukjoo’s being a bitch, you can slap her.” Gukjoo squawked loudly from the living room about domestic abuse, but Nayeon and Jinsol both laughed. 

“Always.” Nayeon confirmed, feeling a shy grin spread over her face. 

(X)

The PC Bang was loud and annoying, as Nayeon had expected, but luckily the phone chargers were cloistered in a small quiet corridor around the back, which meant that Nayeon could slump down against the side wall and watch the battery slowly creep up from 15% to something more acceptable. Her kakaotalk was still occasionally pinging from people trying to contact her, but people had clearly given up on her, so Nayeon smiled, lazily, sliding down the wall. 

**Me, 2:15**  
Unnie, I’m out atm  
I’ll be back like sixish? Don’t get worried.  
Oh btw, I also have dinner, so you don’t need to get anything.

 **Gloss Goddess, 2:17**  
alright  
you still doing okay?

 **Me, 2:17**  
Yeah  
Didn’t think I would be, but I really am.  
I’ll tell you later, I’m kind of thrown off, haha.  
How’s work going?

 **Gloss Goddess, 2:20**  
ok  
holding you to that  
and fuck i didn’t think people could get stupider but guess what

 **Me, 2:21**  
Deep breaths, unnie  
Think about how broke you’d be if you punched them in the face and lost your job

 **Gloss Goddess, 2:21**  
that just makes me wanna punch them more tbh  
and fuck okay manager’s coming  
willseeuosson

Nayeon snickered lightly to herself, and played idly with her phone screen organizing the icons together, before unorganizing them. Fuck. She was bored, plain and simple. Any other day, and she’d be completing homework, or doing something with her friends, but here she was, slumped against the wall instead.

Fuck. What was she planning to do about homework? Nayeon frowned and stared down at her hands. 

Screw homework. What was she planning in general?

She didn’t know, but Jinsol’s comments about making the deal sweet for her parents rung around Nayeon’s ears. She’d been planning to just show her parents that she was capable of getting into the scholarship programme of SKY and then go straight into underground music afterwards. But….now the thought was bouncing around her head about continuing on. Getting a degree, perhaps in music, or maybe in something else altogether, but also simultaneously doing rapping work. Lord knew that she was adept at balancing her schedules now, and she doubted that university would be all too different to high school in that at least.

It would be harder. That much was undeniable; without a freedom of schedule, becoming an underground rapper would become infinitely harder. Trying to promote herself, attending all of the events she’d need to attend to get herself somewhere, and spending all of her time in the studio, like Hyosang did, now he was done with high school and working for a company, would be impossible. But. If it meant the support of her parents...would it be worth it? 

Nayeon wasn’t sure. She’d never really been able to imagine herself at a university, somehow. Not for the past few years anyway, even if all of her childhood dreams, fueled by the ambition of her parents, had featured a degree and a dog and 2.5 children. But in these past few years, as she’d discovered who she was and what she wanted, all of her dreams had been solely focused on the stage, on the world of music, in the studio. 

She didn’t know. Maybe it was better to focus on homework and school. 

Nayeon closed her eyes and sunk down against the wall, fiddling with the phone cord, fingers hovered over the contacts button, before pressing call.

“Hello, Shin Donghyuk speaking.” drawled Donghyuk, in that ridiculously sleazy professional voice he always used when he wanted to piss off Nayeon. 

“Hey asshole. Are you alone?” asked Nayeon, tilting her head back against the wall, feeling the vibration of the music inside the main PC Bang room, on her back. 

“Yeah, basically.” Donghyuk snickered, sending a gust of air across the phoneline, “Studying. Unlike you. God. What are you, a superspy? <>Are you alone my ass.”[2]

“Hey, I just don’t want to go back yet, idiot. Don’t mock me, or I’ll kick you.” Nayeon complained, feeling a smile involuntarily reach her face, at the sound of his familiar dulcet tones. Donghyuk was always like this, unapologetically an asshole, and she both hated that and loved that about him and his stupid face. 

“You okay?” he asked, voice dropping a little quieter and Nayeon exhaled, lowly. It was weird. It was weird hearing that tone from him when she was used to them just having banter, banter and more banter, and maybe sometimes, occasionally whining about their unrequited crushes on people. It was weird being exposed to the side of Donghyuk that _understood_ emotions, even if his emotional constipation was living proof of how the patriarchy suppressed male emotion, until it became 2D.

“Not really, Hyuk.” she murmured, gently. “I think I will be. Soon. Just not right now.” 

Donghyuk hummed, understandingly on the other side of the line, and Nayeon could hear his pen clicking faintly too, and she could almost imagine him swinging around on his desk chair, pen in hand as he tried to be a good friend and procrastinate on his studying simultaneously, a pose she’d known from years of being friends, years of being together, familiarity interspersed through every word and breath they exchanged with each other. 

“Hey.” Donghyuk murmured, “At least your album’s out. None of those songs got lost, because they’re out there already. Damn good too, Hunchul-hyung’s just been sending me incoherent emojis all day, because he can’t believe he has to step up his own game. He won’t send anything to you because he wants to look cooler and unintimidated but...” He trailed off, a dry amused tone to his low voice and Nayeon, laughed and easy.

“Course Hunchul-oppa’s pissing himself, I already owned his ass from last time, and now it’s even fucking worse.” Nayeon said, feeling the grin stretch over her face, feeling the lazy energy that she’d always felt with Donghyuk fill her bones. It was a different sort of feeling from being with Jinsol and Jimin, a different sort of feeling from being with the other rapper kids, a different feeling from being with her sister. The most comparable sensation she had to describe how easy it was to feel his voice soothe over her, was perhaps the small brushes of her elbow with Yoongi, when they worked over a song in the late hours of the night, recording over and over again, until their throats were hoarse, and grinning at each other, with the low exhilaration of two people sharing the same burden. That was what it was. Except perhaps less electric with Donghuk who was just. Comfort. There _was_ comfort in routines, even if she extensively rapped about the necessary destruction of many familiar routines.

“Yeah. So take heart yeah? Seeing you being so negative is fucking weird, Nayeon.” he said, with a low sigh, “You talk shit as good as anyone, but you actually sincerely believe in that hope underneath, yeah? That’s a good thing in this world.” 

“Is it?” asked Nayeon, tugging at a strand of very-slightly damp hair, that curled over her breast. 

“What more do you even fucking want, Nayeon?” asked Donghyuk, snapping his pen furiously now, “The world to fall into your lap? It doesn’t work like that, it never fucking has.”

“Yeah, but to face obstacles at every turn from even the people who’re supposed to love me?” asked Nayeon, feeling the frustration rise from under her ribcage. “I’m _tired_ Donghyuk.”

“You’re just getting started. This is all you’re ever gonna face in the rap world, nothing else will do, nothing else will exist. But you gotta stop acting like some fucking matyr okay? You might feel fucking lonely, like that whalien shit you were talking about, but you aren’t.” Donghyuk snapped, and something like a burst of warmth filled her chest, as he continued, “Listened to the whole fucking thing. Top to bottom. And you know what? I’m pissed, because you didn’t even give me a preview to any of these fucking songs, I’m outraged. But I’m also pissed because I’m literally right fucking here. So’s Hunchul-hyung, and Hyosang-hyung, and Taegyun-hyung and Ikje-hyung, and Jinsol-noona and Jiminie. You can’t claim to be fucking alone when we’re all literally right here, ready to catch you when you fall. It’s all great for your angsty rapper shit, but it’s not fucking true. I’d drop everything if you got hurt and you know that. And lord knows you’ve got Yoongi-sshi wrapped around your finger.” 

“Is that enough?” asked Nayeon, and she knew her voice was too reedy, too thin to sound much like her usual tones, which were pitched to be more confident than she ever felt. 

“It’s been enough for other people.” Donghyuk said, seriously, “And you’re the strongest person I know.” 

Nayeon squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled, deeply. It felt like everybody was out to make her cry today, for various reasons. “Thank you.” she murmured, thickly and sniffled a moment to clear her throat and her mind, to get to the real reason she’d called Donghyuk. “Hey Hyukkie, do you think you’d be able to grab my backpack from my house?”

There was a long pause, before Donghyuk chuckled. “Typical Nayeon.” he muttered, amused through his teeth. “Not likely. Your mom’s like in lockdown mode. Can’t get Soyeon to sneak out your bag because your mom’s gone helicopter mode on her and I have no real reason to be in your room, it would look suspicious as hell.”

“Pretend you borrowed a pen and want it back. Or you want my notes and shit.” Nayeon said, sharply, “I literally just need my books, Hyuk, you have a set of my uniform at your house.”

“Are you seriously going back to school on Monday?” asked Donghyuk, sounding incredulous. “That’s the most reckless thing I’ve ever heard you say, after ‘I’m going to audition for Ameoba Culture tomorrow’. You’re not actually going to consider it?” 

Nayeon rolled her eyes. “Not on Monday. That’s asking for trouble. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday though, can’t miss too many classes before the exam.”

Donghyuk hummed, slowly, and she could almost see the way his face would twist into consideration. “Want me to skip with you? Looks less weird that way, people would blame it on me instead of anything else. I mean sure, we might get some dating rumours and shit, but wouldn’t be any indication of family trouble.”

Nayeon felt a small clench in her heart. Oh. She really wasn’t used to Donghyuk being emotionally and physically considerate. She laughed, instead, to shake off the warm feeling that thrummed under her veins. “You just don’t want to go to school, you ass.” 

“Yeah, kinda.” Donghyuk admitted shamelessly, and Nayeon found it easier to tip her head back and laugh, probably loud enough to be heard over the thumping music inside the PC Bang room. “But you know, you’re also sort of my friend.”

“Sort of. You _asshole_.” Nayeon said, rolling her eyes. “Go to class and study for the goddamn exam, you need every bit of help with that, right? So do that. Sorry for worrying you. Get me my shit though, I’ll be back on like...Wednesday or something, okay?” She didn’t know what she was going to do in that time, but she had a vague inkling, something small niggling in her heart, about the things that Jinsol had said and the things that Donghyuk had just said. Little things to decide exactly which path she wanted her life to take. 

Donghyuk made a grumpy noise and hung up the phone, leaving Nayeon to stare forward at the wall again, the small seeds of a real plan formulating in her head. But for now, she let her eyes shut and the sound of the loud PC Bang behind her lull her into something of a meditative state. 

(X)

It was almost dark by the time that Nayeon made her way back to Yoongi’s apartment, despite it being relatively early, and Nayeon shivered a little as she twisted the doorknob of Yoongi’s apartment open and pushed inside. Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t much warmer than the outside world, but it was a welcome refuge from the harsh winds, and seeing Yoongi hunched over at her desk, headphones firmly cinched around her and her face pinched into that slightly pained expression she made when she was trying to focus and failing, was more than satisfying.

“Unnie, if you scowl like that, your face will freeze into that expression.” teased Nayeon, pulling off her sneakers and placing the stew on the table. Yoongi looked up and there was something so soft and tender in her gaze as she looked towards Nayeon, that Nayeon felt her breath catch in her throat, as if Yoongi’s long thin fingers had just caught and stolen Nayeon’s breath without even thinking about it. Oh. 

But Yoongi’s expression quickly smoothed out into something more neutral as she beckoned Nayeon over to the computer, pushing away from the desk, on her spinny chair. “You’re an english genius right? Tell me what this says.” She tilted back, as she tried to give Nayeon room to lean over her and read the screen properly, and Nayeon had to force herself to look at the screen, instead of trail her fingers down into the smooth curve of Yoongi’s pale neck. 

“Uhh,” Nayeon scanned over the screen and the simplistic website design before her eyes properly caught the title. ‘Album Review: Afraid of Reality.’ Oh. It was their album cover. And someone was reviewing it in english? That was. Monumental? Unexpected? Nayeon wasn’t quite sure, but it was something both very surprising and hopefully, very good. 

“Okay. Umm.” Nayeon leant over and started slowly translating, trying to remember the twangy accents and english subs from Friends to help her with the English. “ _To those who pay attention to the k-hip-hop community, this is an album that’s been long-awaited, but to those of you who are new to this, get ready. Hold on to your horses?_ I think that means something like ‘get ready’ again. _Rap Goddess is a name that’s clearly reverberated through the underground, shaking the reputation of any rapper who thinks they’re all that. An apologetically young and female rapper, Rap Goddess is currently a member of hip-hop group DNH and with her skill and talent, a solo album is something we’ve all been expecting for a long time, especially after boasts of it during her live performances. A duo album was not expected, however, and especially not with equally enterprising young female rapper, Gloss from Daegu. A fact that the elder rapper doesn’t hold back from mentioning throughout the tracklist of this introspective and often very harsh album._ Unnie, they caught onto the fact you’re a patriot.”

Yoongi laughed, low and easy. “Daegu’s a great place.” she said, without shame, and pulled her legs up to her chest, looking even smaller as she looked back up at Nayeon, urging her to continue reading, with just one haughty gaze .

“Okay. _And our rappers never allow you to forget the fact that they’re very much female and very much subverting all standards just by existing, in what may, to some, seem like abrasive repetition, and yet to others like myself, act more like an anthem of pride. Cacophonic, large tracks like Too Late, Give It To Me, Class Act, SoyBeanPaste Girl, Breaking Spines and Your Body is a Warzone don’t fail to hit home many points about the subtle and overt stances of sexism, colourism and general judgment that surrounds the lives of women and of themselves, with loud callouts to anybody who disses them._ Huh, this is really cool.” Nayeon said, feeling her cheeks warm as she continued to read. 

“ _But, despite the hardhitting power of the more impassioned rapping and the clear arrogance and anger used masterfully by both rappers in the tonality and pitches of their voices throughout these tracks, the thing that stands out most to me about these tracks is how smooth the instrumental behind their voices is, with a lovely mixture between a lot of popular EDM beats and a more eclectic soundscape that seems to be taken from a heavy traditionally korean sound. This masterful blend between styles is what characterizes the album, as a split between the facade of power and the reality within._ How did you even find this article, unnie?” asked Nayeon gaping. The words were difficult, taking a lot of time for her to slowly translate in her head, especially when it came to these very musically technical words. 

“I can write some english, you know.” Yoongi said, rolling her eyes, as she glared balefully up at Nayeon, “I just searched ‘Afraid of Reality Korean’ in google instead of naver, and this was like the second result.”

Nayeon hummed, in amazement, before ducking her head and continuing. “ _That struggle is what characterizes the more slow-tempo second half of the album, turning darker and deeper, with more reflective and painful songs. Gloss focuses on issues of ambition, mental health and powerlessness in her rapping, while Rap Goddess focuses more on self-hatred and the distinct struggles of balancing the various spheres of the world around them, in touching lyrics in Whalien 52, The Last, Honestly I Couldn’t Care, Where Are You Going, Lost, Submerged and Discouraged. And despite their different rapping styles clashing a little more on these slower tracks, the addition of their more coarse and passionate singing, helps smooth out the differences. There aren’t any requests for sympathy in these tracks, just a matter-of-fact acceptance of their lives and a presentation of their various struggles._ ”

Yoongi hummed, softly. "That’s good, it wasn’t supposed to be a cry for sympathy.” she said, quietly, and there was something very thoughtful on her face and Nayeon could only mutely agree. She hadn’t really expected people to understand them this much, and be anticipating this much for _them_ , and it was sort of scary, if she was honest. 

“ _One thing that stands through throughout this introspective part of the album as well, is the honest appreciation of traditional hip-hop. The beats are reminiscent of northern and southern hip-hop, with a smoother blend of r &b once their voices kick in, and through their homage to several famous western artists such as Warren G, Missy Elliot and Kendrick Lamar, along with sly references to BIG BANG, Epik High and Dynamic Duo thrown in, it’s very very clear that both girls know exactly where their place in the hip-hop world is._ Well duh.” Nayeon said, rolling her eyes, “That entire paragraph is like ‘it’s so surprising we know what we’re doing’, please.”

Yoongi laughed, lowly. “Well, I mean, with the shit some k-hip-hop rappers have been putting out, it probably is a surprise, let’s be real.” Her voice was gleeful, as she leant forward. “What else?”

“Hmm, okay.” Nayeon murmured, as she scrolled past a couple of blurry pictures of her and Yoongi’s competition stage, on that night almost a month and a half ago. “ _The duo also have a very lyrical approach to all of their subjects, with strong wordplay to dance around explicit subjects and smart ways of insulting people while still managing to sound mock-contrite. And the sheer poetry in some of the more slow songs speaks to their education, with references to lots of traditional korean poetry styles and classical literature--_ they really should have mentioned that it’s just me, because you wouldn’t know sijo poetry if it kicked you in the ass.” Nayeon said, turning back with a wide grin. She probably deserved the jab of Yoongi’s foot into her shoulder, indignant and painful.

“Piss off, my lyrics are clearly superior to whatever shit you’re constantly spewing about sex. Mine are art, because I’m a fucking genius.” Yoongi said, and there was a clear pout on her face that made Nayeon snicker to herself, as she started reading again. 

“ _\--classical literature. Yet despite this, there is plenty of criticism to be had for the school system throughout many of their songs, calling out the follower culture and bystander culture of schools and how bullying has reached levels that would in any other country, be called torture. The entire debut album acts like a very emotional rollercoaster, with a lot of commentary about everything n their personal worlds and the world at large, and the ending songs of the album act as a pleasant ending and lead-on to whatever future projects the duo will work on. Reflection, So Far Away, and Flight are dreamy songs with a soundscape that sounds entirely ethereal, especially with their flighty, clear voices that clearly captures the last of their emotional hope for the future._ This is crazy, I can’t believe they like our singing too.”

“Clear and flighty, my ass.” Yoongi muttered, “But whatever, not gonna dismiss people praising us, you know.” 

With a slight snicker, Nayeon leant back into the article. “ _Despite many songs about their own personal experiences and struggles, little is mentioned of how the two rivals managed to create an album like this together. Last that was heard of Rap Goddess and Gloss’s interaction was at a popular rap battle linked here, in which Rap Goddess won, though not without some difficulty against Gloss’s wordplay and little had been heard of their actions since. This author would love to know more about how these two inspirational rappers managed to get together to make an album like this. There’s no doubt that this album is filled with quality. There isn’t a single song that won’t be on my playlist for various reasons or another, and female k-hip-hop fans can rejoice at the success of young rappers like this. Afraid of Reality earns a solid 10/10, with its deserved mastery of rapping, interesting and well-mastered tracks and powerful messages. I’ll be eager to see how much more they develop as they keep rapping._ ” Nayeon finished, licking her lips. “Unnie. Unnie this is _good_.”

“That’s not even the most effusive praise we’ve gotten.” Yoongi said, face splitting into a warm smile, as she twisted around in her chair to face Nayeon, and Nayeon regretfully pulled her arm away to lean back against the couch. “Everybody loves it, Nayeonie. There’s a billion reviews from people, not quite able to believe we made this from scratch, and so _many_ salty haters on the forums. But Nayeonie, this is it. Did you know that _Code Kunst_ recommended our songs on his twitter? He works for YG, this is huge!” 

Nayeon wanted to respond with excitement, but she had been snatched instead by the look of complete contentment and euphoria on Yoongi’s face, filling her with joy in a way that Nayeon hadn’t yet ever seen. It was a new expression, relaxed and free, where Yoongi’s blonde hair flopped into her eyes, which had crinkled into these tiny crinkles and where she seemed to be strumming with happiness. Nayeon felt her heart twist in her chest and she just smiled, probably a little stupidly. “We did good, unnie.” she said, numbly, but Yoongi didn’t seem to suspect anything awry about Nayeon’s quietness, as she spun back around in a restless circle of joy. 

“You know what would be even better?” asked Yoongi, biting down on her lip. “If we had a music video. This is gaining international attention as well, and people love music videos better than just rap songs.”

“We don’t have the faces for a music video.” Nayeon dismissed immediately. Even if Yoongi was beautiful like this, dim lighting and joy making her look like a little angel, neither of them had faces that were considered pretty by media. They wouldn’t get the views, it was better it keep it like this. Let their music speak for itself. And besides, how would they even make a music video? “Besides, who would film it? Pay for it?” 

“Hecka people are streaming though.” said Yoongi, with an almost forcefully casual shrug. “Like. Not chartworthy or anything, but it’s way better than expected. It couldn’t hurt to try for a music video, try and make those streaming numbers increase even more.”

“But who would do it?” asked Nayeon, biting down on her lip. The answer had come to her immediately anyway, why had she asked? “Actually no. My dongsaeng, Jimin, she loves filming stuff and she’s pretty good too, we could ask her, though I warn you, she’d probably be salty about me not asking her to sing….” 

Yoongi laughed, easily, leaning back in her chair and looking rather contemplative as she looked over Nayeon. “It’s just a thought.” She pushed herself up to her feet and blinked, heavily. “What was this you said about dinner? It’s been a really long weekend.” 

With a surprised blink at how easily Yoongi had let go of the topic, Nayeon just gestured towards the stew that Jinsol had packed them, along with the dumplings she’d found from the previous night and insisted that Nayeon also take with her, because dumplings would make Jinsol’s face swell before rehearsal. “I went to go and see Jinsol-unnie, and she gave me all of this, because she and her roommate weren’t planning on eating dinner.” Nayeon explained, quickly pulling apart the boxes and placing them inside Yoongi’s old, yellowing microwave in the corner. 

With a raised eyebrow, Yoongi flopped down at the table, grabbing two soup spoons and some chopsticks from her drawer on the way. “Jinsol-unnie really is the perfect wife, huh? I could never.”

Nayeon snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. “Jinsol-unnie’s too independent for settling down like an obedient housewife. She just loves cooking and hates any of her cooking going to waste.” The microwave beeped, and Nayeon pulled them out quickly, and placed them down on the table. She hadn’t expected the rim to be so hot, however, and almost spilled the chunky stew across the sofa, had Yoongi not reached out and steadied her wrists, carefully bringing them down to the table, almost absently. The touch of Yoongi’s calloused fingers against the inner side of Nayeon’s wrist almost made her blush, like an inane schoolgirl, so she just laughed nervously and apologized for her clumsiness. It was probably a testament to how stupidly accident-prone Nayeon was, that Yoongi already knew to do that, without thinking about it, but it made Nayeon feel strangely happily, that they could predict each other like that. 

“Your hands okay?” asked Yoongi, her fingers not withdrawing from Nayeon’s, as she rubbed over the white bandages that Jinsol had so neatly tied. 

“Yeah.” Nayeon said, softly, not meeting Yoongi’s gaze. 

“Are _you_ okay?” asked Yoongi again, lips parting as she looked up at Nayeon, nothing but curiousity in her eyes. Not pity, not frustration, nothing. Just plain out curiousity and worry and Nayeon didn’t really know anything in that moment, except how much she _loved_ Min Yoongi for just being.

“Been better.” Nayeon admitted, raising one shoulder an an awkward shrug, as she played with the chopsticks between her fingers. “But better than I was last night. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Yoongi said, grabbing a spoonful of soup and shoving it into her mouth, not even pausing to blow on it. “If you need to talk.” Yoongi sounded awkward now, as she gulped nervously and looked down at her own hands, and Nayeon just reached out a leg to kick at Yoongi’s calves, despite it not exactly being proper dinner etiquette. 

“Don’t try and look cool now, unnie, I know you’re awkward as hell.” Nayeon protested, splitting open a dumpling, to let it cool. Yoongi’s response was to kick back, with more vicious force than Nayeon had been expecting and wincing in pain, Nayeon dropped the dumpling to the plate as she reached down to rub at her aching legs. “Unnie.” said Nayeon, plaintively. 

“What are your plans, then?” asked Yoongi, looking a lot more comfortable in her skin, a smirk playing over her features now. “Are you staying here….? It’s always okay, of course, I‘d just like to know.” 

Nayeon nodded, taking a sip of the soup. “Yeah, I’m staying here for a couple more days, but, if things go well, I’ll probably go back home. Or somewhere else.” She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to think of the best way to phrase her plan. “Jinsol-unnie got me thinking a bit. She said that my parents knew I did music, but in a more abstract sense? That they didn’t know my success, and that I also hadn’t given them good enough reason to support my music career. To them it’s madness because I haven’t explained everything to them? So I think. I think I’m going to go and check out the SKY Universities over the next couple of days, see if I’d like it there. See if maybe I can do a degree in university and still pursue on the sidelines, like I do right now.” 

Yoongi nodded, looking thoughtful. “Keeping your options is a good idea.” she said, plainly, “But I disagree with her about making it worth their while, as if they’ve got this iron-tight grasp on you. Sometimes, your parents have got to make the effort first, you know? After this shit, especially, they’ve got to reach out and try and apologize first, you know? Don’t let them get away with smashing your hard work so quickly.” 

Nayeon nodded, biting down on her lip. “I’m not sure, unnie.” she said, quietly, “They’re my parents. They want what’s best for me.” 

Yoongi shrugged, put down her chopsticks on the table and leant forward, on her elbows, expression entirely serious. “Yeah, they want you to be happy. Which is why they want you to be an engineer. Doctor. Lawyer. Whatever prestigious profession of the week they seem to think will fit you. They see that as a stable job or some shit. But sometimes parents are just plain wrong, even if they think they’re doing the best thing for you, right?” she said, clearly, “No profession is ‘stable’. By the time you go through the eight years of extra education you’d need to get anywhere in ‘stable’ careers, they might be on the decline in popularity or profitability. Technology might have replaced them, public opinion about those professions might change, and at that point, what? You have no passion and you have no job opportunities. Might as well stick with something you love more than anything.”

Nayeon blinked, but Yoongi wasn’t finished. 

“It’s the biggest fucking waste of money I’ve ever heard of, to go to university at the prices they have now, for something you aren’t passionate in.” Yoongi said, seriously, her beautiful pale face contorting into an expression of frustration, which made her look as beautiful as the day they’d first met, even without the eyeliner and the stage lights. “And if you aren’t taking it seriously, you’re taking a place away from someone who actually wants it, right? That’s my two cents. Look at universities, and if you genuinely want to go, there’s not a single thing wrong with that. But you’ve got to pay attention to it, yeah? With the money being spent? Otherwise it’s just a fucking waste. Your parents can get over their secondhand dreams by themselves.”

With a soft exhale, Nayeon nodded. As if she hadn’t had enough to think about, with Jinsol’s advice. Now, having Yoongi’s entirely contradictory advice to act as a counterpoint, she was left in a state of even more confusion. Still. There was merit in both arguments, a strong, mature woman advocating for both decisions meant that either action would be _justified_. But which would make her happy? Were there other options outside of this? She didn’t know yet. She wasn’t someone who made decisions quickly, unless she had to. She wanted to marinate, muse over it, assimilate more information, understand her own thoughts further. Snap-second decisions were only for the direst of situations, after all. 

“I don’t know, honestly, unnie.” Nayeon said, with a shrug, “My parents aren’t like….I don’t know. They’ve been kind despite my not being the most filial daughter in the world. But you’re right too. I’ll see. Still deciding. It helps that our album did well though, it feels a bit like a reward. An assurance that I can do music well, even without much album buildup or anything.”

Yoongi smiled, small and barely visible, and the exhaustion over her features was so visible from here, from where she was shivering in her five billion layers of clothes, how there were small white flakes peeling from the edges of her fingers visible through her too-big hoodie, how she stared at Nayeon with such relieved emotion, and Nayeon couldn’t help but smile in return, quiet and understanding. “Alright.” Yoongi said, quietly, reaching forward to pick up Nayeon’s empty bowl and stick it in the sink. “Do you want to work on some more music or just relax?”

Unexpected. For as long as Nayeon had been working on music with Yoongi, the elder girl had _always_ wanted to work on music. Always. It was to the point where Nayeon had started to think that Yoongi was uncomfortable when she wasn’t doing something vaguely productive. “We can work on music.” Nayeon said, cautiously, and sure enough, Yoongi looked instantly happier, as she rinsed over the dishes, haphazardly. 

Yoongi had just offered to make Nayeon happy, make Nayeon comfortable at her own expense. There was something important in that, as important as the gaze they’d exchanged last night, what felt like a world away, outside of the Dragon’s Kiss, with purpose and flirtatious purpose. And Nayeon liked it. Liked that she could recognize it, liked that it was there. She wasn’t in a hurry to push it anymore, surprisingly. 

“Unnie.” Nayeon said, quietly, as Yoongi rinsed off the dishes and placed them to dry on the drying rack. “I really can’t thank you enough for all of this. You’re doing so much for me and I really appreciate i--”

She was cut off by a damp dishtowel landing straight over her head as Yoongi traipsed away from the kitchen, in that weird shuffle-walk thing she did when she was feeling tired. “Shut it. Any decent human would do it. Lord knows I needed someone to be a friend like this when I walked out of my house in Daegu. So you know. I’m just doing a favour.”

Nayeon blinked, pulling off the towel from her head, with a low laugh on her lips, even if she tossed the towel aside. “Just let me thank you, unnie.” Nayeon said, taking the seat next to Yoongi, at their computer station. “Especially since I’m going to be leeching off your and Donghyuk’s studios over the next couple of days.”

Yoongi just laughed, low and easy, her eyes crinkling upwards, into a cute smile. “That’s okay.” she said, quietly, booting up cubase, “I actually thought I had something cool at work today. See you what you think, I’ll play it for you...” Her fingers flexed over their mini keyboard and they launched straight back into it, the same flow of music that had sustained them together for a month and a bit. 

It was easy to lose herself in the process of making music, and Nayeon couldn’t help but throw herself into the soothing sounds of Yoongi’s mini piano and the careful timing of getting the proper snare backing, and the extra reverb around the corner. It was easy. As easy as breathing, to slip back inside the flow of music and lose herself in the musical notes. It was like seeing the vision of a perfect completed song at the end, and running a marathon to get there, pushing herself down the glowing yellow brick road, growing and changing the song as it went, until they reached the end, with something that sounded satisfactory. 

And for a couple of hours, all of the worry for the future of her music career was erased, just by the sheer process of doing music.

There were few songs that Yoongi ever qualified as “finished”, but on the rare occasions that Nayeon could get the highest of high praises, was when Nayeon knew something was _damn_ good. 

There was a pleased flush on Yoongi’s cheeks as Nayeon finished up the last recording and turned off the mic, to lean back in her chair. “Good job.” Yoongi said, calmly, though there was a tint to her voice that clearly indicated she had more to say. Nayeon want to ask what but felt too content, too alive, too hopeful, surrounded by the fading echos of the final note in the air, to bring it up. Another day. 

“Thank you.” Nayeon said, and it was in lieu of what she really felt, what sort of gratitude she wanted to express to Yoongi for giving her a place to stay, for letting her do music without judgment, for letting _them_ exist in this limbo, teetering and wavering, but unshaken, for now, as Nayeon sorted her own personal shit out. 

Yoongi said nothing in return, as she shut down Cubase, but just brushed past Nayeon on her way over to her bed in the corner, eyes blinking slowly together. 

It took Nayeon a couple more minutes to pull off her shoes, and join her in bed, Yoongi curled against the wall and Nayeon lying as far away from Yoongi as she could. A little uncomfortable, but Nayeon didn’t want to rush, and clearly, Yoongi was not seeking physical contact tonight.

It didn’t matter anyway; when she woke in morning, she and Yoongi were tangled in each others limbs, tightly and only a little awkwardly.

(X)

The sun shone down brightly on the back of Nayeon’s sweater, even through the chilly breeze, and Nayeon hoisted the handbag over her shoulder, to try and fend off the wind. Jinsol had lent it to her, when Nayeon had come back for another set of change-clothes, which was turning out to be useful now, as she followed the university guided tour. Seoul University was beautiful, now that Nayeon looked, at all of the glistening, towering buildings, the spaces of green among the urban, the faces of the stressed college students around them rushing off the class, and laughing with their friends.

It was a kind of peaceful, she mused, as she half-listened to the tourguide talk about how the humanities departments were structured and how many of their professors were world-renowned for their work in research and in analysis, listing people from Silla historians to feminists scholars to anthropology professors all eager to work with the most talented undergraduates in the country. 

And for a moment, Nayeon pictured writing her papers on feminism, the stuff she did in her spare time, here. Among other women and men who got it. Among academicians, being able to be recognized for them internationally among other people who genuinely cared about improving society, instead of having to deal with internet trolls writing nasty comments on her articles. It was something she’d never once imagined before, but she thought about it seriously now, as the tour guide kept talking about how classes worked and how fast the term would go. 

Writing feminism papers by day, going to rap music and the underground at night. Could she do it? Would it be worth it? 

Nayeon glanced around her, surreptitiously, as some other person asked a question, and stared at the environment around her. The reddish-brown trees swayed in the chilly breeze, scattering dead leaves across the path, and the sound of distant laughter and buses filled the air. Nayeon closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her head to the side. Peaceful. Removed. Tranquil. She would follow the paths of her friends, who were planning on going to some prestigious university, be it Sungkyungkwan, Yonsei, Korea, Hayang or Sogang, would sit and follow in the paths of her ancestors.

And she wouldn’t pursue music. Nayeon could feel it in her bones, as she looked up and followed the rest of the tour group, feet slowly dragging. She knew. If she went to university, she could feel it mapped out in her head. In her first year, she would take all of the classes, thoroughly enjoy herself and push herself even harder by going through to upperclassmen classes already, while still going to the club and making music. Maybe she would release another album, maybe two. And steadily the work and university duties would pile up, and the obligations to her professors and her work would slowly become more and more important, and every meeting with Donghyuk and Hyosang and Yoongi would be rescheduled or changed or postponed or stalled. Until they’d start being cancelled, and she’d become removed from everything in the underground, as she worked exclusively on university life, and became an academician, and her rap career would be a funny thing to bring up to her future wife, something to make her students smile and call her cool, maybe even a badass.

And truly. Nayeon didn’t think that going into academia was all that bad. She could see herself there, she really could, now that she watched people around her, looking exactly like she did; from those in leather, to those with dyed hair, and the foreigners with piercings and tattoos, walking around in small gangs, laughing together. Bright, motivated, impassioned, _young_. 

But she wanted _music_. She wanted music, more than anything. And she knew. She knew in that moment that she couldn’t accept Jinsol’s compromise. She couldn’t go to university just to appease her parents, because she would regret it. It was beautiful here, on campus, but it was isolated, from everything Nayeon wanted to be in the thick of.

How could she comment and call out the rap society for being misogynistic or homophobic or transmisogynistic or anti-black if she wasn’t _there_ to witness it? There to change it? There to talk about it? To succeed, she’d have to throw herself into the thick of things, would have to walk among all of the people there, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much they cut. She would have to make music and live wildly and freely and understand them and understand why they were wrong. She wanted to be involved in the problems, she wanted to stand up and speak from the thick of it, and she couldn’t do that here. 

She just couldn’t.

With a polite smile and a nod to the tour guide, Nayeon nodded and wandered away from the tour group, boots thudding against the grass and the concrete, as she steadily walked away from the university, black hair whipping behind her. Each step she took filled her with the confidence she’d been lacking for the past few days, and every person that parted for her, felt like one less stone was hanging on her shoulders. And when she finally stepped outside of the university gates, looking back for a moment at the imposing sign in golden script, she felt herself let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she’d taken. 

She couldn’t be what they wanted her to be. And in truth, she shouldn’t have _wanted_ so badly to be what society had wanted her to be. She’d defied in every way, except her profession and now. Now even that was being released to the air. She was free.

It felt good. She smiled up towards the sun, squinting upwards at the tall buildings around them, before walking back towards ton, footsteps meandering and not in any particular direction. About halfway down the road, she started humming something under her breath, something that sounded a little bit like a victory chant, faint smile playing over her lips.

As she passed a coffee shop, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass, and had to paused to stare at herself for a moment. Her hair was messed up ridiculously, having whipped past her in all directions, and wearing Jinsol’s baggy hoodies and tight skirts was a weird look on her figure, since it fit in all the wrong places, but her cheeks were pinked from the cold, her back straight and her eyes bright, and it was the best she’d looked in her entire life. 

Nayeon couldn’t help but grin at herself, widely, as she reached for the phone in her pocket. It rung four times, before the number at the end picked up. “Unnie? Yeah, I think I’m going home this evening, you were right...”

(X)

She had thought she would be more nervous to be knocking on her parents’ door, but there was nothing but an overwhelming sense of calm as she stared at the door. It was weird to be back here, but when her mother opened the door, Nayeon was proud to say that she only smiled, wide and bright. “Hi mom.” she said, easily, as her mother stared at her, with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “Can I come in?”

Wordlessly, her mother opened the door, and shut it behind Nayeon. Before Nayeon could bend down to pull off her shoes, her mother threw herself at Nayeon in a thick hug and although her mother wasn’t crying, there was a heavy silence and weight in the hug. Nayeon just leant forward and patted her mother’s back, gently. It wasn’t as strong as her previous hugs, but well. She knew her mind. She understood her parents. She knew what they wanted, and she was willing to let them in and tell them about her and what she was doing. She wasn’t willing to compromise anymore, and it was the most certain about this she’d ever felt about anything to do with her future. It was a strange and amazing sensation, to stare at her childhood house and know that she wasn’t nervous or afraid or unsure. 

“You were okay?” asked her mother, pulling away, and there was a heavy lilt to her voice, and Nayeon wasn’t always good at reading people, but she knew that her mother was suppressing tears. 

“Yeah, I went to go and stay with a friend.” Nayeon said, quietly. 

“I called you! I called all of them! Why didn’t you come home?” Her mother was starting to look furious and Nayeon shrugged, not really willing to get shouted at for this. 

“My phone was dead, it was already on the verge of dying after going out clubbing.” Nayeon shrugged, with a soft sigh, and it was probably one of the better lies she’d told, because her mother didn’t even look like she doubted Nayeon. “And you wouldn’t know this friend, she’s a rapping friend.”

Her mother’s eyebrows tugged downward in displeasure, but Nayeon tugged her shoes off and pulled off her jacket, to hang on the coat rack, to calm herself thoroughly. She had to stay zen throughout this, she knew, there was no way that her temper could ruin this for her. Her temper had done quite enough the first time her mother and her had talked about this issue. “We need to talk.” she said, quietly, “But I’d rather wait until the whole family gets here.” 

“Soyeon’s at cram school.” Her mother snapped, and there was a clear look in her eyes that seemed to say ‘as you should be’, but Nayeon managed to firmly ignore that, as she slipped her hands into her pockets and stared her mother back down, evenly. “And your father’s travelling abroad.”

Nayeon wanted to wait for Soyeon, because Soyeon’s message to her had been very worried, but well. She didn’t really want to talk to her younger sister about this. Only her parents, really, because there was a lot of adult language in her album that Soyeon probably already knew, but didn’t need to know _from_ Nayeon. “Okay, we’ll do this now.” Nayeon said, stepping up the stairs, “Let me charge my phone.”

She took the stairs two at a time, plugged in her phone, but also grabbed her laptop, still out on her table, the room otherwise untouched. The laptop booted up easily, new and effortless, nothing much like Yoongi’s old dinosaur. Bought for her by her father for her high score on the MENSA test, and Nayeon stared at it for a couple of moments, remembering the smell of sex and ramen and loud obnoxious humming of the old dinosaur in Yoongi’s apartment, before picking it up, opening up the screen, and pulling up the album reviews of Afraid of Reality. 

Her mother was seated on the couch, back perfectly straight as Nayeon came back down and slipped the laptop into her mother’s lap. Her mother didn’t look down at it, looking straight at Nayeon instead. “What is this.”

“I released an album two days ago.” said Nayeon, casually, and she was surprised to note that it didn’t even feel fake. ‘The night you broke my music equipment actually, I was out late to celebrate. Two days without any promotion, any advertisement, not even hints that we’d release this, except dropping it on three websites and putting it on our social media, and still, Yoongi-unnie and I are at 98 on Melon streaming.”

Her mother didn’t know much about modern music and how it worked, but she did understand music charts. She gave Nayeon a shrewd look. “You’re no.2 in the country in studying.” she said, understanding instantly what Nayeon was implying. 

“After you put billions of won into preparation for that.” Nayeon countered, because she’d been ready for her mother to counter her. “This was done with my my own money, my own reputation and my own sweat. No money donated to school to exclude me from afterschool clubs, no afterschool tutors, no cram school, no prep books, no summer camps.”

“Are you saying you aren’t intelligent?” asked her mother, looking skeptical, but her gaze had darted down to the articles pulled up on the laptop. 

“I’m intelligent.” Nayeon said, confidently, crossing her hands in her lap, “I might even be considered a genius. But that genius was honed by professionals and thoroughly encouraged on every side. I didn’t have any help for music. Everything I’ve made is through hard work and the help of my friends. I faced every single obstacle I could have ever faced in music, every single hurdle and had no support and I reached 98 on the charts. I didn’t have a fanbase of fangirls, thirsty ahjussis wanting to see my ass, big companies and their bribery or sajaegi to get here. On my first release, we broke the 100 and have stayed at 98 on the charts.” 

Her mother looked down at the screen again. “What do you want me to read.”

“The first two album reviews.” Nayeon said, quietly. “And listen to the album if you want to.” 

Her mother just pursed her lips, but clicked the first link nevertheless and started to read. A heavy silence fell over the living room and Nayeon leant back against the couch, letting her eyes flutter shut. Half of the struggle over. She was almost tempted to see her mothers’ face as she read the articles, but trying to decipher which facial expressions corresponded to which parts of the article would make her anxious, and Nayeon didn’t need anything like that. 

She wondered what Yoongi was up to at work. It had been a bad idea to leave her phone upstairs, but she’d needed to show that she was giving her mother respect, and a phone wasn’t the best way to indicate that. Still, she was missing Yoongi’s usual work updates, a little.

Last night had been strange, as she’d tried to put into words how it felt to be on university campus, back in Yoongi’s apartment. It had been rather hard to concentrate because of the smug smile on Yoongi’s face, as she’d leant back in her chair, while man-spreading obnoxiously and just saying ‘uh-huh’ in a thoroughly frustrating way, until Nayeon had given up and thrown a pillow at her face. They’d ended up chasing each other around the room, Yoongi just yelling ‘ _I told you so_ ’ in her most annoying voices until the neighbours had come over to them them to shut up, which had made them both collapse into silent giggles on Yoongi’s couch. It had been the sort of nonsense that Nayeon liked to indulge in with Donghyuk and Jimin, and it had been sort of strange to do it with Yoongi, but fun anyway. It was rare that Yoongi was _ever_ in a playful mood like this, and the cheeky smile on her face, as infuriating as it had been, had made Nayeon’s heart clenched

What had been really strange, was the repetition of collapsing into bed with Yoongi after their frivolty, curling up with Yoongi under the covers, edging away from each other in the cover of night, and waking up together in a tangle of limbs and sleepy smiles. A sort of heavy happiness, something that had filled Nayeon with sort of happiness she’d never wanted, not until now.

She didn’t know what was happening, honestly. She wanted to conquer the world with Yoongi, a billion world tours, and interviews and concerts, with loud voices and even louder music, not stay at home and curl up with Yoongi, but having been in Yoongi’s apartment for just three days, fulltime, had managed to make something soft in her heart. If this was what it felt like for everybody, Nayeon could almost understand why people could make themselves content with housework, and that was an uncomfortable sensation, one she didn’t really feel like confronting. Not today. 

...and this was a lot longer than it would take for her mother to read just two articles. Nayeon cracked open her eyes and couldn’t help but smile a little. Her mother was reading another article, one that Nayeon knew was lower down on the page, and there was a reluctantly impressed look on her mother’s face, and Nayeon stared at her face, softening with every word she read.

Nayeon didn’t interrupt, just smiled, gently, but evidently, her mother had detected the curious eyes upon her, because without even looking up, she asked: “Depression?” Oh yeah, a lot of the articles mentioned their frequent mentions of mental health. 

“I got close to it, sometimes. Not really me, though. Yoongi-unnie.” Nayeon explained, evenly. 

“Gloss?” asked her mother, looking up, tapping the blurry picture that somebody had of her and Yoongi sitting at a table together, in the Dragon’s Kiss, writing lyrics on a napkin and Nayeon nodded, wordlessly. “You like her.” Her mother’s tone was forceful and even, the same no-nonsense tone that Nayeon had heard her entire like, even more clipped than it once had been. 

“Yeah.” Nayeon agreed, unsure of where this was going, really, but sort-of sure that lying wouldn’t end well. Sometimes, Nayeon regretted having coming out as a lesbian to her parents, because her mother always looked so disapproving when Nayeon paid too much interest to women, but surprisingly, she just looked angrily resigned, today. 

“Are you dating?” At this, her mother’s head finally popped up, and there was a serious look in her eyes. 

“Not yet.” Nayeon admitted, and her mother nodded, curtly, flipping the lip of the laptop closed. 

“Save that for after you graduate.” she said, firmly, “You’ll be focusing on school for as long as you’re still in school. Once you leave, you’ll no longer be under my control, so I won’t have any say in what you do.” Nayeon felt her lips twitch up. This was a minor victory, but well, Nayeon was looking to hit the big jackpot. She didn’t want grudging acceptance of her talents, she wanted proper support. 

“I’m not going to university.” Nayeon murmured.

“I’m aware.” her mother said, her tone half-snide. “You’ve made that quite clear.” She looked hurt and Nayeon understood. Her mother had been unable to do anything with her career. Had resigned herself to being the perfect mother. Had resigned herself to the world vested in her children, and her eldest daughter, with all the potential in the world, wasn’t willing to validate the investment her mother had put into her. She understood that, it was exactly like Jinsol said.

“I’m not belittling you or the future you had for me.” Nayeon said, gently, leaning forward to awkwardly put her hand over her mother’s hands. “In another life, I’m sure university is where I could have excelled, because the pathways and threads of existence are like that. Just not in this lifetime, not in this world. The call to make music is too strong for me. I want to call out the world’s hypocrisies and the world’s cruelties from right in the _centre_ of where it’s the worst. It won’t have any impact if I’m not standing right there with every other rapper., it will be the same sort of hypocrisy committed by _every_ person in power.” she said, softly, “I want to be the very best in what I do, because that’s what you taught me, and what I’ve always strived to achieve. I’m going to be the best at music and make the whole world look my way.” She paused here. “I want you to support me. You’ve always helped me along the way, and I wouldn’t be the clever, bright, determined girl I am today without you and dad helping me out whenever I needed to be pushed. If you supported me here as well, I would fly to newer heights and I would be the luckiest girl in the world.”

And her mother looked away and there was a heavy sob. Nayeon panicked a little, startling upwards, trying to awkwardly pat her mother. This _wasn’t_ the point where her mother had been predicted to cry. No, definitely not, that had supposed to be at the beginning, maybe when Nayeon confirmed that she definitely wasn’t going to university. Not when Nayeon asked for her help. 

“If you write songs like this.” her mother said, recovering a little, “I understand why you are succeeding.”

Nayeon pinked a little and felt her face stretch into a stupidly proud smile, ruining the calm she’d been feeling into something mixed with more embarrassment and pleased pride. “I’m pretty good.” she said, softly. “So is that a yes?”

“Go make your music, you stupid child.” her mother berated, but there was a shaky smile on her face. “But if I see you writing music when you’re supposed to be studying for your final exams, I won’t hesitate to slap you. After you are done studying, after you have _proved_ that you’re the best in the country, then you can pursue music.”

It wasn’t quite what Nayeon had been hoping for. But Nayeon knew that if she pushed anymore, she’d lose everything. Compromises were part of being a woman in this world. “Okay.” she said, quietly, and let the tension leave her shoulders, and reached forward to tug her mother forward into a hug. Her mother pressed into Nayeon’s shoulder and leant into her.

“I’m sorry.” her mother said quietly, into her ear. “You know I didn’t mean to smash your musical equipment. I just wanted to lock them up for a little while, so you would focus on your studies, and get your priorities straight. But I was very angry and you were not acknowledging your wrongs at all. But I’ll replace them once you graduate.”

It wasn’t quite the apology that Nayeon wanted and her stomach twisted. “That really hurt.” said Nayeon and her fingers came up to trace the bandaid over her cheek still. “I bought that all with my own money, and I had so many songs saved on there. I don’t forgive you for it yet, mum. I lost so much there.”

“More than the money I spent on cram school and the time I spent making sure you were well trained?” asked her mother, pulling away and standing up, eyebrow rising. “We both lost something in this, Nayeon. But a mother should never physically hurt her daughter. So for that, I am sorry.” 

Nayeon gritted her teeth, as her mother left for the kitchen, but forced herself to stare down at the laptop on the couch and breathed through her nose, carefully. Was it really a conversation with her mother if she didn’t come away from it at least marginally annoyed? Probably not. But fighting her mother’s words would not end well, so she kept quiet and stewed in her annoyance. This was better than she would have expected to have happened three days ago. So. She just had to breathe. 

She still had homework to finish. 

(X)

Surprisingly, few people bothered her when she came back to school, despite Nayeon ruining her perfect attendance in her absence. There were a few curious looks in her direction, and Jackson and Bora had been very vocal about their disapproval in her ignoring their messages, but she’d been able to laugh those off with quiet apologies and settle back into school-life easily enough. No, they were rather more occupied with studying for the entrance exams.

People hadn’t been very serious before the NUATs, just sort of drifting along in school, pretending that they were doing just fine to everybody who wanted to listen, but now everybody had gone into serious study mode, bolstered probably by their sub-standard NUAT results. And surprisingly they seemed to be streaming a lot of music to help them concentrate while looking over and trying to memorize the english and social science sections. Which meant the topics of conversation were SNSD, Wonder Girls, Secret, Infinite, Block B and surprisingly, her and Yoongi.

She hadn’t really been expecting the kids from a private rich school to listen to anything but bubble pop and angsty rock bands, but well, she was pleasantly surprised, by the fervent discussion of how awesome rap was, from some of the girls in her class. 

It was slightly surprising to stretch out her shoulders inbetween lectures and hear people discussing how revolutionary Rap Goddess’s songs were and how cool Gloss sounded and how some of her classmates really wanted to fuck their voices (more knowledge about their kinks than Nayeon had ever really wanted in a context of her, thanks). There was whining, too, among all of the praise, of how the album was feminazi bullshit and how they’d never get boyfriends, but Nayeon couldn’t help but suppress her smirk at that.

She wondered, for a few moments, whether people could tell fro the husky tone of her voice, whether people would know from her passionate opinions during class, but nobody seemed to be able to associate good girl, perfect IQ, completely disinterested Kim Nayeon, with Rap Goddess, and that suited her just fine. 

Still, there were people who knew exactly what was happening, and really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that, upon the lunch bell ringing, Nayeon was instantly dragged away from Donghyuk and her classmates, by an insistent, short ball of muscle. It wasn’t often that Nayeon found Jimin anything except cute or cutest, but right now, speeding down the corridors, fueled by her determination, Jimin was sort of terrifying. Her black shoes clicked across the floor ominously, as Nayeon practically had to jog to keep up with Jimin’s pace, despite her significantly larger stride. 

“You’re a really shitty friend sometimes, unnie.” Jimin snapped, as they reached the home economics classroom, that nobody ever really ate at, during lunchtimes, and practically threw Nayeon down on a chair. Nayeon blinked, a little confused, as Jimin started to pace in front of Nayeon, her angry gaze not leaving Nayeon’s face. She’d texted Jimin when she’d gotten home, and promised to talk to Jimin later about what had gone down with her parents and what she’d decided to do. She hadn’t fucked anything else up, had she?

“You released an album. Not a mixtape, and _album_! And you didn’t say anything in advance! I would have done my homework early and streamed all weekend, and instead you just...dropped it out of nowhere! I found out because _Donghyuk-oppa_ told me. Oppa!” Jimin ranted, throwing up her hands in apparent inability to believe anything. 

Oh. Right. “There were kind of other things on my mind.” Nayeon said, drily, as she grabbed her lunchbox and opened it. “Like you know. Being kicked out of my house.” 

Jimin glared at her. “But you released your mixtape before that happened! You should have texted me once you put it up! Or you know, given me some sort of notice, saying _‘Hey Jimin, that mixtape you were seriously excited for is actually an album and we’re releasing it Saturday! Check it out!’_ ” Nayeon was rather insulted by Jimin’s imitation of her, Jimin had slumped her shoulders, stood on her tiptoes and made her voice sound like it had been raked over a washboard and Nayeon didn’t sound like _that_. 

“It slipped my mind! Sue me!” Nayeon said, feeling a sense of exasperation rising in her. 

“Maybe I will!” Jimin snapped, as she took a seat opposite Nayeon, slamming her hands against the table, in a loud bang. Nayeon blinked and stared at her, waiting for something to happen, cautiously. Instead, Jimin sighed, and leant forward, stealing one of the chunks of chicken from her lunch. “You’re so dumb, unnie. You keep going around like you don’t have friends who can help you, until it’s absolutely necessary to use a friend. This isn’t Who Wants to Be A Millionaire! I’m not only your friend when you’re in desperate need, you know? You can ask me for smaller things too.”

Nayeon whacked Jimin with a chopstick. “I don’t think you’re only my friend in desperate times.” she said, defensively.

“Well you do.” Jimin snapped, eyes blazing, “You helped me every single time I felt down about dance and my body and my classes, you’re always giving me articles to read and weird long facts about philosophy and poetry and it really helps. And you literally don’t think I can help you at all. You kept talking about being fucking lonely the whole way through your mixtape, but I’m _right here_. You just have to turn to me. You have to let me in, and I’ll help. Give me a precedent to set, and I’ll continue, but when I don’t even have one instance where I’ve been able to help you yet because of your matyr complex--”

“--you help me just by existing, you can’t say that--”

“--I want to do more!” Jimin shouted, fist smashing against the table. Nayeon flinched and Jimin immediately drew back, looking apologetic. “Sorry. I just.” Jimin pulled a face. “Unnie, your album was so _sad_ and it didn’t need to be.”

Nayeon’s gaze dropped, and she tapped her chopsticks against the side of her lunchbox. “You know, Donghyuk said much the same thing.” she said, contemplatively. She hadn’t thought her introspection had truly been so negative. Everybody had to feel that kind of lonely sometimes, late at night. You couldn’t really eradicate that kind of worldly exhaustion and loneliness so easily, and the only way she could ever quell that urge at night, was to think about music and how full and wide the world was. 

Jimin laughed, low and frustrated. “Probably one of the only times I’m ever going to agree with oppa, but yeah. Yeah. Just because we’re your same age, doesn’t mean we can’t help you out, Nayeon-unnie.” she said, seriously, “And we’re much more accessible than Jinsol-unnie and Yoongi-unnie and your rap friends, you know. Our only concerns are school, not adult affairs, you know that. You can call me whenever you want. If you want a hug, me to ramble about dance, to rant about something, to come over. I’m here. Any time of day.”

Nayeon nodded, dumbly, before Jimin’s hand pushed firmly into her face, pinky outstretched. “Promise me. Call me when you need me.” Jimin said, and well. She was really serious?

Nayeon stared at Jimin’s hand, for a second. It was a big promise to make, to let Jimin in the full way. The thing was, Nayeon didn’t like the idea of letting Jimin know, she really didn’t. Jimin was her dongsaeng, Nayeon was supposed to protect her from the world, make Jimin feel better about the fact that she had prominent muscles and enjoyed having muscles, make Jimin feel better about the fact that she still enjoyed makeup and dresses despite that, make Jimin feel okay about how to regard the world and rebut to her classmates who wanted to challenge Jimin’s position as lead dancer in regards to her appearance. Jimin wasn’t supposed to have to deal with Nayeon’s points of weakness. 

But she was offering. She was demanding, she wanted to know about it and try to make it feel better sometimes. You couldn’t always count on just one or two people to talk to, that was the fact. People got tired, or they had something to do, or that night, they weren’t feeling good themselves. You needed several people to offer help. She would be a fool to refuse this when Jimin was explicitly asking Nayeon to promise. 

Nayeon exhaled, and against her misgivings, pressed her hand out and twisted her pinky finger in with Jimin’s. “I promise.” she said, quietly. 

Jimin smiled, contented, as she slumped back into her chair, and stole another piece of chicken from Nayeon’s lunch. “Good.” she said, easily, “Though I. Uhh. Might have something to say about something else.”

Nayeon’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t really enjoy this, huh?” she joked, gently, and Jimin frowned.

“Hey, don’t say it like that. I _cried_ , unnie, especially when you started singing. And like half of your streaming views are from me, okay? The rest of the album was really nice. I liked the beat in Reflection and Where Are You Going! And I read all the lyrics to Gloss-sshi’s stuff because I didn’t get her, and she’s _super_ cool, I approve. I totally love the songs.” Jimin said, hotly, poking the table firmly, “I just. Really don’t agree with what you said in Working Women, you know.” 

“About working women deserving more respect?” asked Nayeon, incredulously, but Jimin rolled her eyes. Good. Nayeon hadn’t spent almost a year and a half educating Jimin in feminist culture for this. 

“No, unnie,” Jimin said, her smile fixing on her face, ‘The part where you pretend that housewifes are somehow less strong than people who go to work. You’re meaning to tell me that your mom isn’t a terrifying force of power?”

“Every woman is a powerful storm, a bleak desert, the falling heart of an imploding supernova.” Nayeon said, automatically, and Jimin groaned, thumping her head down against the table, black hair fanning out in a curtain across her face. 

“Sometimes, you’re really frustrating.” Jimin said, voice muffled against the table. “Unnie, please stop avoiding the question. If every women is a storm and a supernova, that includes housewives too, you gotta give them credit for being terrifying forces of nature too. There’s power in more than just outward working aggression.”

“Enough credit’s been given to housewives for their labour, they’ve been idealized in media for years. There are so many adverts and old-timey things for good wives. We need more focus on working women, women willing to go out and pursue their career and passions. Women are called stupid for not getting a degree, coldhearted for not marrying and selfish for going to work and putting a use to that degree. Working women need support, if they choose to have kids,a nd they need to equalize the family dynamic. Men should take more responsibility for children too, so both parents can go to work and still look after their kids. Housewives, at the moment, are being curtailed to look after children and clean the house and cook the dinner, and that’s it. They’re being suppressed and they need a popular social movement to free them from the trappings f society.” Nayeon protested, spooning a mouthful of rice into her mouth. 

“One, you’re not painting a full picture here.” Jimin said, sticking her finger up primly, and Nayeon mused that she looked very much like she had been watching some of the crime TV shows with her lawyer-like stance. It was kind of cute to watch, like seeing a kid grow up after having taught them, how to fight. “Domestic women are given shit for working, and given shit for _not_ working too, and being told that what they do is easy, by ungrateful men and mother-in-laws. Their work is important and useful, if they’re doing it. And two, what if a woman’s passion is her family, unnie? That’s not wrong, if she wants that. You can’t say that there’s something wrong with domesticity and those who want to stay at home.” Jimin said, eyes wide. “Would you think less of me if I found a really nice guy and decided I wanted five kids?”

Nayeon shook her head, but before she could rebut, Jimin continued. “Exactly, you wouldn’t. My appreciating domesticity and children and dogs and a nice home life doesn’t erase the fact that I’m amazing, right?” Jimin said, gently, “It doesn’t erase the fact that I’m a good dancer, with a hilarious wit and the cutest face.”

“But you’d be giving up a dance career that could take you across the world, just to look after children.. And domestic women have their identity erased by staying at home, the way society sees them ends up just representing just a flat surface for their children and their husbands. So often, mothers are forced to give up their desires and ambitions make themselves available for their children and further the growth of their children.” Nayeon said, voice as even and soothing as she could make it. She remembered all too many stories of elder women talking about how they’d wanted to be a doctor or lawyer or engineer before they’d been forced into marriage young, and their husband had refused to let them work. 

Jimin laughed, low and easy. “Nayeon-unnie, if you say that to my mom’s face, loveable idiot or not, she’d definitely smack you with a ruler.” There was a half-fond expression on her face. “You mean to say that your mom’s personality and opinions have been erased by you and Soyeon existing? Not likely. Just because you don’t like children and staying at home, doesn’t mean that other people are supposed to hate them too.”

Nayeon frowned. “It doesn’t change the fact that my mom and probably your mom gave up their degrees in their fields to look after us. They could have been career woman, and they became tiger moms instead, and focused only on us. They didn’t want to.”

Jimin exhaled. “I’m not disputing that, unnie, if my mom and your mom had had choices like we do, they probably wouldn’t choose arranged marriage and housewife careers. I’m just saying that if a woman _chooses_ domesticity, she’s not in the wrong, and she’s certainly not losing her personality and her opinions and becoming a blank slate for anybody. She gives up something, sure, but you have to give up some other things to pursue success too! It’s all abut perspective, unnie, please don’t discredit the idea of domesticity.” 

Nayeon bit her lip. “I’m not.” she said, quietly, remembering the slow blossoming warmth in the centre of her chest, when Yoongi had smiled up at her, sleepy-cute and barely functioning. “I’m really not. It’s a nice feeling, I agree. But women can be so much more.”

“They can. Do they choose to? An if they are forced to become more, is that really any better than being forced into being a housewife?” demanded Jimin, tilting her head. “I’m sorry unnie, I’ll never agree with you here.” 

Nayeon laughed, leaned forward and reached out her hand to Jimin. “You’re getting good at this rhetoric thing.” Nayeon murmured, easily, and when Jimin clasped her hand, filled with wonder and happiness, Nayeon couldn’t even feel too sour about being outmaneuvered. “Still can’t beat me, but you know. You’re getting there.”

Jimin laughed. “God unnie, you’re such a sore loser.” she said, and her voice was that shade of obnoxiously delighted that made her sound like she was floating on air. It was beyond cute. 

“You’re one to talk.” Nayeon retorted, easily, “Didn’t you rematch Donghyuk eight times when he beat you at Crossy Roads? You’re never good at losing.”

Jimin pulled a pouty aegyo face and started to punch at the air, movements small and cutesy. “I’m gonna beat you, and beat Donghyuk-oppa and _everybody_ ” she declared, and Nayeon couldn’t help but cringe from the cute, cooing softly, even as her fingers curled up into involuntary fists. 

“Cute.” Nayeon whined, in defeat, and Jimin grinned, triumphant and easy. 

“The great Rap Goddess, felled by some cute aegyo.” Jimin declared, with an easy grin. “Wouldn’t everybody be shocked.”

They both exchanged soft looks and laughed, and Nayeon felt overwhelmingly, incredibly normal, in a surprisingly good way. 

(X)

Nayeon had made something of a pact to herself, after confronting her mother, that she would try and go to cram school, even when she was bored, and work on lyrics quietly there, instead of skipping altogether. It wasn’t the optimal scenario, but she needed her mother’s support and understood that her mother had paid a lot. Perhaps that money was unnecessary, since Nayeon was able to study these reviews for the entrance exam herself, or mostly knew it already, but it was still money, so Nayeon stuck around for the most part. There was only a month and a half left anyway, so Nayeon set her nose to the whetstone and studied, no matter how annoyed she felt about being here.

But sometimes there were exceptions. There were always exceptions, and when Yoongi texted her during one of the cram school breaks, Nayeon didn’t even hesitate to sling her bag over her shoulder and just walk out. 

**Gloss Goddess, 17:45**  
cna you come over?

There were two things playing to her speed, as she practically sprinted from hr cram school over to Hongdae, long limbs tripping her a little as she went. One, was that Yoongi never made typos. Ever. She was almost obsessive about having perfectly spelled texts. And two, was that Yoongi _knew_ that Nayeon was trying to be good, and knew that Nayeon had cram school. Which meant it had to be urgent, because Yoongi thought many unflattering things about Nayeon’s compromise with her mother, but was respectful enough to help Nayeon keep to her promise. 

And when Nayeon arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, to find nobody answering her calls and the door unlocked, her slight panic only increased. But she forced herself to think it through.

They hadn’t talked much about their problems with mental illness with each other. Nayeon didn’t talk about how the bad days were when she felt so suffocated and scared and anxious at night that she couldn’t sleep, didn’t really talk about there were some days were her self-loathing was so thick that she could communicate only in sarcasm. And Yoongi hadn’t talked about whatever shit haunted her, whatever shit caused the small scars across her shoulder and what made her cling to cigarettes like a crutch. But they both _knew_. It was hard to avoid, when Yoongi had written twelve different versions of lyrics to their songs about dealing with your mind being your biggest enemy, it was hard to avoid when they proofread each other’s lyrics and helped each record the sections, over and over again until they were brushed to perfection. They didn’t believe in talking about it aloud, but Nayeon knew what Yoongi struggled with anyway [1].

Knew that Yoongi was pulling herself out of depression, one rung at a time, knew that Yoongi dealt with self-hatred and social anxiety with as much pragmatism as she could, knew that Yoongi had considered suicide very seriously at some points on her life.

Knew that whenever she felt particularly bad, she’d broke into one of the deserted warehouses in Daegu and climbed to the top room and stared out the broken windows and imagined jumping off and dying, until she felt less like she was going to go crazy.

Oh. 

Nayeon shut Yoongi’s door and sprinted up the staircase, up to the top floor. The roof was thankfully unlocked, when Nayeon pushed her way forward. As she’d expected, Yoongi was there, her blonde hair fluttering the breeze, from where she was perched on top of one of the railings. Se was short enough that her feet didn’t touch the edge of the railing and waved, instead, in the air, above almost eight stories of buildings. She was just sitting, calm and completely unruffled by Nayeon’s loud entrance or even the chill of the outside, but Nayeon knew that external calm wasn’t exactly a great indicator of being stable internally. 

“Hey.” Nayeon called, coming up behind her. Yoongi didn’t even seem to acknowledge her, except for a small grunt, and if it wasn’t for the rushed text message that Nayeon had gotten, she might have walked back to cram school. Maybe. Probably not. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Nayeon again, gently. 

Yoongi turned around, and blinked, lazily. She looked very distant, and Nayeon disliked the way the expression sat on her face. “Haven’t you ever just wanted to sit up here, Nayeon?” she asked, and her voice was low and grumbly, but sort of misty, in a way that better suited Phoebe from Friends, than it did Yoongi. 

“Not really unnie.” Nayeon said, feeling a little awkward and more than a little worried. “You’ve been up here a while, huh? Want to come down?”

“Not really.” Yoongi answered, in what sounded like a mockery of Nayeon’s voice, uncomfortably accurate. Nayeon shifted, as Yoongi’s gaze fell downwards, towards the streets, towards the roads below. It wasn’t very far away, but it was far enough away to make Nayeon gulp. Fuck. She’d thought, she’d _hoped_ , it would be something more like. Wanting company while slowly getting less crazy, not Yoongi actually wanting to jump.

Maybe it was still company, maybe Nayeon was reading the situation wrong, but she felt uneasy, about how lightly Yoongi was balanced there, how her long fingers, skin peeling a little from lack of real nutrients, barely curled around the edge, how removed from the whole situation Yoongi seemed to be, lost in whatever she was thinking, feeling. 

“Unnie. Please come down with me.” Nayeon said, softly, leaning her elbows against the rusted steel, despite the uncomfortable itching sensation on her elbows, directly mimicking how her skin was crawling in the unfamiliarity of this position. “I had a new idea for a tune, and I wanted you to play it for me...” she trailed off, when it was quite clear that Yoongi wasn’t really paying attention to her, more focusing on swinging her legs, dangerously, and dear god, Nayeon was scared. Her heart was beating fst, and she wanted to trust that Yoongi knew what she was doing, that this wouldn’t be the time where the voice in Yoongi’s head won, but she was _terrified_ and wasn’t qualified to deal with this, not with her own horde of problems. 

But what she did know right now, wasthat dealing with Yoongi was something that needed to be blunt and not gentle. Were it Jimin or Jinsol up here, Nayeon would probably continue being softer and quieter. But Yoongi was one of those people who needed a harsh shock of reality, to snap out of anything or realize anything truthfully. Nayeon was sort of the same, in many ways, both stupidly stubborn to the truth.

Which was why she rushed forward, without warning, as if to push herself and Yoongi over the edge together, in a particularly forceful move, hands firmly on Yoongi’s waist. Yoongi immediately screamed, fingers trying to grab a better hold of the railings, but as she lost her balance on the rail, she pushed backwards instead, against Nayeon’s chest. This sent Nayeon back against the floor, with a loud thump, and brought Yoongi over the rail, legs stretched awkwardly, until she overbalanced and fell back against Nayeon.

Nayeon groaned at the impact of Yoongi’s weight back against her, feeling a sharp stabbing pain in her elbow, which meant she was _definitely_ bleeding. “Fuck.” cursed Nayeon, pulling her free arm forward, to rub over her eyes. That _hadn’t _gone as expected, though, Yoongi was off her, and Yoongi was no longer trapped in whatever weird state she’d retreated to.__

__“What the fuck were you thinking.” asked Yoongi, voice pinched and terrified and furious, as she scrambled off Nayeon and glared down at the prone figure of Nayeon. Nayeon’s gaze drifted down to Yoongi’s trembling fingers and she smiled, faintly._ _

__“It’s proof.” Nayeon murmured, reaching to grab Yoongi’s hand between hers. “That you don’t want to die. You screeched. You tightened your grip on the bars, you pushed back--”_ _

__“--to save _you_ , you crazy bitc--”_ _

__“--you _don’t want to die_. After all you’ve done here?” Nayeon insisted, hotly. “You don’t fucking want to die. That voice in your head might tell you that you’re worthless, stupid, greedy, possessive, and don’t deserve shit, but _you_ want to live, and make music. You proved that to yourself right now.” Yoongi was panting and her face was reddening from anger or something else, but Nayeon could see the reluctant processing of what Nayeon was saying. “Subconsciously. The part that understands your real desire. Doesn’t want you to die. So you gotta flip off that voice in your head that tells you that jumping is better, cause it’s fucking wrong and you’re fucking lying to yourself if you think that jumping is better.” _ _

__“Who the fuck asked you?” asked Yoongi, but there was very little force behind her voice, as Nayeon pushed herself up to a sitting position._ _

__“You did.” Nayeon said, simply, fingers trailing down to her bleeding elbow with regret. Another school uniform ruined. “You asked me. And I’m giving you the answer. Life sucks, and that voice in your head is a piece of shit, but you’ve gotta live.”_ _

__There was a heavy silence between them, and the world underneath kept moving. The people in red light district started to wake up, and the buildings and the sky grew darker and darker, and the sound of the evening commute traffic started to fill the streets and Nayeon waited, for Yoongi’s face to change from that blank expression, for Yoongi to _get_ it. For Yoongi to understand what she was really saying. _ _

__Nayeon wasn’t sure how long it took, but Yoongi pushed herself up carefully, and turned her face out towards the skyscrapers, looming over their building, to the darkening sky, and there was a faint smile on her face. Then, she turned around and extended her hand down to Nayeon, her figures silhouetted in the light, small and strong and wiry, just the way that Nayeon had fallen in love with her. “Get up, you crazy bitch.” murmured Yoongi, but her voice was fond and her eyes soft, and this was the Yoongi who’d worked in the studios with Nayeon for the past month and a half._ _

__Nayeon grinned, and accepted the hand up, their calloused fingers rubbing against each other, gentle and meaningful. “Want to talk about it?”_ _

__“Not right now.” Yoongi said, as Nayeon dusted herself off with her free hand, and they both stared at each other for a moment, challenging, wondering, filled with uncertainty. But Nayeon squeezed Yoongi’s hand and tugged her back towards the warm indoors, her own heart rate slowly decreasing in the centre of her chest._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] – it means soybean paste girl, a derogatory term for girls who eat very cheap food and buy everything cheap, in order to indulge expensive luxury items like handbags and coffee. There’s an association of shallowness and selfishness with this term, and is generally used by many men on the internet. 
> 
> [2] This [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVwZbQO4I4s) is one of the gayest things ever, and I love it, and it’s totally what inspired that particular line, haha. Also seriously, watch 4things if you haven’t already, because Donghyuk is very interesting in his support and critique of Namjoon. 
> 
> [3] I wasn’t going to write this scene, even if I’d thought of it until [this](http://sugastruck.tumblr.com/post/152317761512/namjoon-on-yoongi-and-first-love) came out and then I couldn’t help it.
> 
> The was supposed to end with this chapter BUT SURPRISE, I'M WORDY AND CAN NEVER KEEP THINGS SHORT. I'm not very satisfied with this chapter, even after trying to edit it into compliance, but I've also been sitting on it for literal eons, so I'm giving up at this point, haha. The last chapter should be shorter and also include some sort of conclusion to everything. 
> 
> For my politics readers, if you're not already disillusioned from the outcome of the election and if you didn't already know from world news, Korea's going through a period of political instability as well, since their president, Park Geun-Hye, has been controlled by a shamanist cult for most of her life. It's the first time I've ever heard the term selfless nepotism and the details are truly horrifying and very telling, for the state of art/culture in South Korea. Please do read up on that, if you haven't already, the askakorean blogspot has a great explanation.


	6. NOT A CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to disappoint you with this, but I thought for those of you who don't follow my twitter or tumblr, that I'd mention this! I'm auctioning off an AU fic of your choice on [btsrelieffund](http://www.btsrelieffund.livejournal.com) in order to collect money for the ACLU and make sure that Trump doesn't violate the human rights of the country I'm living in! If you'd like to donate for a good cause, or get me to write a fic of your choice, please do consider it!
> 
> [Link here](http://btsrelieffund.livejournal.com/4181.html)
> 
> To not be entirely disappointing, there's a little bit of a snippet for the next chapter underneath! I'm currently struggling with two other projects, so the last chapter has been on hold, but rest assured, I'm working on it slowly!

A couple of days passed pretty peacefully, minimal shenanigans, but surprisingly, lacking the usual text updates from Yoongi about work or about music. It was a weird couple of days, but after what had just happened, Nayeon didn’t push it, preferring to let Yoongi come to her. And sure enough, in one of the early hours that Yoongi was supposed to be making the commute to work, Nayeon got a text-message, rousing her from sleep.

There were only three people whose messages would make noise, and that was Donghyuk, Yoongi and Jimin (and that was because Jinsol slept earlier and woke later than Nayeon did, and wouldn’t disrupt her sleep cycle).

 **Gloss Goddess, 04:56**  
they fired me  
dunno if it’s because i don’t work as many hours as the others  
or because my face isn’t pretty enough  
or they just needed to fire somebody  
but i haven’t got a job anymore

Nayeon stared at the phone for a few moments, trying to comprehend, before it hit her. Fuck. No wonder there had been no work updates for a bit. And immediately, she thought of the small apartment, and Yoongi already struggling to pay the bills and something hit her heavy in her stomach. 

**Me, 05:02**  
Shit  
i’m sorry  
and sales for album…?  
Is that enough money for now?

 **Gloss Goddess, 05:02**  
not enough for more than a month of rent  
and def not enough for more food than just cup ramyun

Nayeon grimaced. That was...worrying. Yoongi was strong and tough in every way, but Nayeon also knew there was only so much you could push forward with very little food, before it became too much. Before her slender wrists would just snap altogether, from too much weight. 

**Me, 05:03**  
my mom always makes extra food  
She keeps forgetting that dad’s travelling for work  
Me and Soyeon literally can’t eat all of the leftovers  
it would be a relief if you take them off our hands  
That would sort food

A lie, but one that Nayeon was capable of seeing through, since it was over text and not in person. It wouldn’t be much of a hardship to ask her mother to make food for another person, after all, they had the resources and her mother was fairly kind, especially when it came to things like this. 

**Gloss Goddess, 05:03**  
i’m not looking for charity  
forget it

Nayeon growled to herself, and tossed the phone aside. She’d forgotten about Yoongi’s unquenchable pride. She always wanted to pretend she had more to offer than she did, more fucks to give then she did, more energy and power than she did, in a front that made her look good. But what good was being prideful when you were running low on money? 

**Me, 05:06**  
Do you have any better ideas?  
Another job?

There was no responses, which was fucking _typical_ of Yoongi, so Nayeon went straight back to bed, fuming a little from the outrage, tossing and turning restlessly in her bed, until she had to turn on her rainy sounds playlist, to lull her to sleep. 

The thing was, Nayeon mused, the next day in class, unemployment wasn’t something unexpected or new for rappers. Sidejobs were rarely favourable to rappers, being unable to dedicate their life to their jobs, like most company workers were expected to do, in order to advance. It meant that jobs were shortlived, unless the rapper was already in the music industry. This problem was _hardly_ a new problem; Taegyun had been struggling for a couple of years, since he’d dropped out of his high school, until getting his job at Dragon’s Kiss, but still. There were few people who were lucky like Ikje, Hyosang and Taegyun, who got to work with music for both their main job and their sidejob. And Yoongi, as a female rapper would have extreme trouble breaking into production like guys could: production studios were still almost exclusively male, despite many women wanting to write songs. 

Which meant music in a traditional sense would be hard to pursue in a sidejob. Which meant that Yoongi would need a sidejob that would, at least grudgingly, respect that Yoongi was not looking to rise in the ranks and was going to dedicate life to being a musician.

...that didn’t really leave very many options free. 

Nayeon groaned, and decided it would probably be easier to do this in a slower , more stealthy way. Lying wasn’t _exactly_ her forte, but it was easier done over text.

**Author's Note:**

> Kim Eri is one of Korea's best online feminists, please read her smackdowns of idiots [here](http://www.koreabang.com/2012/stories/feminist-feels-pity-for-men-in-continued-online-misogyny-debate.html) and [ here ](http://www.koreabang.com/2012/stories/feminist-rebuts-claims-women-are-over-empowered-in-korea.html)


End file.
